Of Arias and High Sticking
by Crackinois
Summary: Feeling like their friendship isn't as strong as it once was, Maura realizes she not only wants to close that distance but she wants even more.  She devises a plan she thinks will bring her and Jane even closer together.
1. L'amour est un Oiseau Rebelle

**Author's Note: **This is taking place within season 2 though I may ignore the season finale depending on the course of its events. So, there will be season 2 spoiler references in this piece.

**Of Arias and High Sticking**

**CH 1: L'amour est un Oiseau Rebelle, *Love is a rebellious bird**

Nights were restless. Their weariness had been building, day after day into weeks and now it seemed months had passed since she remembered a truly peaceful sleep. Long, dark nights started sooner and sooner heralding the impending winter when the line between day and night would be blurred by grey. The fall leaves were already dying, withering into desiccated droppings that littered walkways and streets. A slight chill had taken over the air as well; crisp for the moment, she knew it would only grow more bitter as November bled into December and on into the even crueler months.

Maura rolled over and eyed the clock, 3:17 am. She didn't even bother with a robe; padding lightly to the front door and flinging it open to stand in the cold night air under the soft glow of the porch light. If she was going to be awake she might as well really be awake. None of this teetering on the precipice of sleep that her mind wouldn't allow her.

Another night awakened and another cup of herbal tea that she knew would barely calm the stirring in her brain but she succumbed to the ritual attempt anyway. She held the cup under her nose, letting the tendrils of steam carry the fragrant notes of the fine Egyptian chamomile upwards. It was too quiet. In the darkened silence of the living room, the cause of her worry blared louder. The stereo remote was within reach and she flipped it on, letting it play where her last operatic selection had ended. Carmen.

Maura closed her eyes and leaned back. _Habanera, how…unfortunately appropriate._

"_When will I love you? Good lord, I don't know, maybe never, maybe tomorrow. But not today, that's for sure."_

She listened as the timeless voice of Marilyn Horne expertly delivered the well-known intro:

_L'amour est un oiseau rebelle_

_que nul ne peut apprivoiser,_

_et c'est bien en vain qu'on l'appelle,_

_s'il lui convient de refuser._

_(Love is a rebellious bird_

_that nobody can tame,_

_and you can call him (although it is) quite in vain,_

_because it suits him not to come.)_

_Jane_…The cause of her restlessness was Jane: their friendship. They seemed off kilter. From the shooting and everything since: Ian, Casey, Tommy, Doyle, Hoyt…maybe Hoyt most of all. Or, the secrets. When had they developed secrets? Maybe they were always there, only undiscovered. She felt distant, from Jane, from what their relationship had seemed to be before. It was strange, because in the day to day particularly little had changed. In fact, when she thought about it they possibly had spent more time together in the past months than ever before. Yet, that time seemed shallow…lacking. She wanted more.

_More of…what?_ Part of her knew exactly what, the part that wasn't her brain. The part that was able to live emancipated from reason and rationality and all of the ways that the brain could talk itself out of recognizing the truth. The heart was free, in the quiet stillness of a lonely night, free to assert control and lead the mind where it wanted to go for once. Towards what it wanted. Thoughts of Jane. How those thoughts had never been the platonic thoughts of a friend since the shooting. Since Jane's blood had been on her hands and clothes. She had tried to force the thoughts back into that box; but, thoughts were a difficult animal to cage, she seemed to have no chains that could properly shackle it. She couldn't lock it away, bury the key where no one would find it, especially herself. Those vacant hours after midnight seemed to always have the combination. And the thoughts…no, the feelings, rumbled up from her chest and stirred her awake, reminding her of her loneliness.

The aria droned on the background, lulling her back to sleep while its words continued to remind her of her predicament.

_L'amour est enfant de Bohême,_

_il n'a jamais, jamais connu de loi;_

_si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime_

_si je t'aime, prends garde à toi! (Prends garde à toi!)_

_Si tu ne m'aimes pas,_

_Si tu ne m'aimes pas, je t'aime! (Prends garde à toi!)_

_Mais, si je t'aime…_

_(Love is a gypsy's child,_

_it has never known the law;_

_if you love me not, then I love you;_

_if I love you, you'd best beware! (You'd best beware!)_

_if you love me not,_

_if you love me not, then I love you (You'd best beware!)_

_but if I love you…)_

Sleep came. And on the edge of sleep, in that delirious space between consciousness and not it brought an idea that tripped along the notes of that deep and belting mezzo-soprano voice.

* * *

><p>"You see the Doc this morning?" Frost inquired as Jane sauntered in a few minutes late.<p>

"No, why?"

"She seemed a little off…maybe under the weather or something. Said she was fine though."

Jane sniffed the seemingly rancid coffee that was the last half a cup in the pot, "Geez, would it have killed someone to make another pot," she mumbled. "Uh, well if she says she's fine, I guess she is. I'm gonna run downstairs and get a good cup of coffee. You need anything?"

Frost chuckled, "You think Stanley's coffee is any better than that?"

She was already on her way to the elevator and held up a dismissive hand, "Let me have my delusions, hey, at least it will be fresh and not that leftover swill you all so kindly saved for me."

"Hey!" Frost called after her, "You're the one who was late!"

* * *

><p>Maura blinked rapidly, trying to focus on the report on her screen before giving up. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose trying to conjure some relief for the headache brought on by her recent bout of sleep deprivation.<p>

"Yeah, you definitely look like you could use this," Jane's voice snapped her awake from a few feet away. She handed Maura the coffee and walked around behind the desk, taking a seat on the edge.

"Thank you, I haven't been sleeping well," Maura took a sip of the offered cup, "Mmm, better than Stanley's usual brew."

"Ma made it this morning. Not sleeping? Yeah, your uh, naso-jugular perio-ocularic…whatevers are…dark circles under your eyes." Jane motioned to her own eyes with a sympathetic tilt of her head.

Maura laughed, "Nasojugal, periorbital." She paused and noted the questioning look on Jane's face, the unspoken, _so why aren't you sleeping_ just on the tip of her tongue. "I seem to be having difficulty quieting my brain at night, all these thoughts are rolling around in my head…they get so loud and disruptive…I, just haven't slept well."

Jane nodded, "Happens to me a lot when we have a really frustrating case. My body wants to sleep and my head just won't shut up, playing out all these scenarios and coming up with all these questions."

"Exactly," Maura looked up with a smile. "Exactly like that."

"Thoughts about what?" Jane asked, watching Maura shift uncomfortably in her chair as she looked away.

"Personal things…I'm not really ready to talk about them."

Jane stood and placed a reassuring hand on her friend's shoulder and squeezed, "That's fine, you know you can…talk to me though, you know, if you need to."

"Jane," Maura stopped her before she slipped out of the office, "Thank you, for the coffee and for…" she smiled and nodded, "thank you. Maybe a change to my evening routine would help, would you want to have drinks tonight or maybe dinner?"

"Uh," Jane ran a hand through her hair and shook it out, taking a sip from her coffee, "Frankie is coming over to my place tonight to watch the Bruins game, if you don't mind watching some hockey, come on over, we'll order pizza. How's that?"

"Perfect, that's perfect." Maura smiled, reinvigorated that her plan had so seamlessly been set into motion.

* * *

><p>"I hope you didn't order the pizza yet," Maura gave an impish smile as she bustled past Jane and into her apartment with two piping hot pizza boxes in her hands, "I thought I would stop at that place a few blocks away that you like that doesn't deliver."<p>

Maura was always one for the details. Jane admired that. It could be irritating at times, but mostly admirable. That attention to minutiae was of course what made her excellent at her job but it was also one of the things that made her a very good friend. For instance, remembering that Giordano's was not only her favorite pizza place but, that they also didn't deliver.

"Alfredo chicken artichoke with spinach," Maura recited, opening the first box and taking note of the pained and disappointed look on Jane's face. Maura pursed her lips and raised an eyebrow, "and the meat lover's special, of course."

"Yay," Jane smiled tapping her fingers impatiently on the counter.

"You got the pizza already?" Frankie hollered as he lugged two giant hockey bags through the open door. "Mmm, smells delicious! Is that Giordano's, Janie did you go to Giordano's!"

"Thank Maura, she stopped and picked them up," Jane mumbled through a mouthful of pizza with every type of meat topping one could fathom, "come on, Maur, don't be healthy…eat the meat."

It did look tantalizing. She eyed it for a moment; then looked at the chicken artichoke and the garden salad she had also purchased. "Maybe…just a little piece."

* * *

><p>Jane flipped off the tv and groaned, resting her hands on her stomach. "Maybe that last piece wasn't such a good idea…"<p>

"I've noticed you tend to overindulge when watching sporting events, I believe it may be an attempt to relieve stress…"

"Is that your professional opinion?" Jane laughed and watched as Maura's eyes fluttered shut but opened again, "I seem to recall you eating more than your fair share of that pizza as well…while that," Jane looked over shoulder, "salad appears to be untouched."

Maura sat up and reached for the hockey stick leaning against the sofa between them. She scooted closer to Jane and fingered the tape job Jane had so painstakingly applied during the game.

"Frankie was always shit at taping a stick. I think that's why he goes through so many," Jane laughed, watching as Maura ran her hands over raised up tape ridges. "Your stick is like your best friend, besides your skates it's the most important piece of gear to a hockey player. You gotta treat it right you know?"

Maura nodded, "Gear maintenance is integral to any sport. In fencing we had to check our foils regularly for any bends or crooks that could cause a break. Not to mention the issues with rust. Minor rusting could be taken care of with a little sandpaper. Sometimes grips needed to be replaced. If a foil was particularly ill-taken care of, it might be a loss and have to be replaced."

"I wouldn't imagine that ever happened to you," Jane reached for the stick, her fingers brushing lightly over Maura's hand as she took it. Maura jerked her hand. "Sorry, did I shock you or something?" Jane chuckled.

"No," Maura ran her opposite thumb over where Jane had touched, it felt hot, everything felt hot, "No, just gave me a shiver. Will you teach me?"

"To what? Tape a hockey stick?" Jane looked over her shoulder as she dug through her bag, sliding the stick in amongst her other gear and zipping it up.

"To play hockey." Maura twisted her hands nervously, fiddling with her ring she waited anxiously for Jane's reply.

"Are you serious? You want me to teach you to play hockey?"

"Yes. I like to try new things. And…" her voice trailed off, that niggling feeling in her chest that had been kind enough to wait until the late hours of the night felt emboldened by pizza and beer. Jane waited, eyeing her with suspicion, the look of disbelief plastered across her face. "If you don't want to that's ok…" Maura turned and headed for her purse. It had seemed like a good idea at 4am that morning.

"Hey, wait, Maur…" Jane's grasp was firm on her arm, yet gentle, urging her to turn around. "I'll teach you to play hockey if you want me to, it's just…somehow I don't think that's what this is really about."

Maura laughed, sniffling slightly, "You can be very perceptive."

"Well, they don't give the detective badge to just anyone."

"It's just," she paused, looking down and then back into expectant brown eyes, "so much has happened to us this year and sometimes I feel like…like even though we see each other almost every day and we hang out, we don't really…do anything together…meaningful."

Jane tried to process what she was hearing but the words were just on that side of vague that Maura so often danced along when she didn't want to reveal everything. "And playing hockey is meaningful?" Her eyebrow quirked with confusion as she asked.

"It is to you."

_I get it._ Jane nodded with a slight smile, warmed by the look of sincerity in Maura's eyes, "Yeah, I mean, I can teach you to play hockey if you want." Jane shrugged and shoved her hands in her pockets. "But, Maur, if…I mean, is this because…have I done something to make you feel like we weren't close?"

"I…don't know really how to explain it right now, Jane. I just want more. And I thought it could be fun to learn about and take part in something you're so passionate about." Maura paused before continuing, "I like seeing you like this…like you were tonight, just watching a game and cheering and cursing…though I'm not sure all of that was entirely necessary. I would like to experience that, in a different way, in a way so that I can really appreciate why you love it so much. I've always thought immersion was exceptionally helpful in such endeavors."

Jane walked Maura to the door, leaning against it as her friend stepped into the hallway, "You're different, Maur, you know that right?" she said with a joking chuckle.

"So, are you Jane. I'd imagine that's why we get along so well." She started to walk away but stopped, catching Jane's eye just before she closed the door. "Jane, if there is something that I really love that interests you, I'd love to share that with you in return."

Maura turned, cognizant of Jane's eyes on her back as her heels tapped out a slight rhythm as she walked down the hall. The tune from the previous night slipped into her mind and she smiled as playful lyrics drifted through memory as her lips hummed the accompaniment.

_L'oiseau que tu croyais surprendre_

_battit de l'aile et s'envola ..._

_l'amour est loin, tu peux l'attendre;_

_tu ne l'attends plus, il est là!_

_Tout autour de toi, vite, vite,_

_il vient, s'en va, puis il revient ..._

_tu crois le tenir, il t'évite,_

_tu crois l'éviter, il te tient._

_L'amour! L'amour! L'amour! L'amour!_

_(The bird you hoped to catch_

_beat its wings and flew away ..._

_love stays away, you wait and wait;_

_when least expected, there it is!_

_All around you, swift, swift,_

_it comes, goes, then it returns ..._

_you think you hold it fast, it flees_

_you think you're free, it holds you fast._

_Oh, love! Love! Love! Love!)_

* * *

><p>"Habanera" from <em>Carmen<em> by Georges Bizet (1875)


	2. Awake, O Heart, Awake!

**Notes: **Ok, now that I've seen the finale…and all of that of which we shall not speak. I have decided this story will not deal with the events of the season 2 finale episode, but it will otherwise operate within the canon events of season 2, with my own twists and additions of course.

**CH 2: Awake, O Heart, Awake!**

The morning alarm greeted her with a shockingly stark contrast to the previous months when insomnia had more often than not met the awakening call with open eyes and an anticipatory hand. It was early, the dawn having not even cracked her windowsill. It didn't matter. The sleep had been glorious and satisfying and tinged with the inkling that perhaps some relief…some resolution was coming. That optimism had washed over her the moment she laid her head down the previous night; as good as any lullaby a restless child might be coaxed into slumber by.

Maura scurried about the house; excitement making muddled work of her usually regimented morning routine. This was a different morning, genesis, a new beginning. She was sure of it. Her bookshelf caught her eye, one particular anthology standing out above all the rest. The cover was withered and worn yet the gold-embossed lettering remained strikingly clear, a find from years ago while meandering through a dusty used books store in London. Maura scanned the contents and flipped through the collected works, unceremoniously and quite out of character given her usual pristine treatment of books; she ripped a page, tearing it neatly down the spine and removing it before placing the long ignored book back in its place.

The page was yellowed from age, the paper rough and course indicative of the time of its making. It had a musty odor, that beloved old book smell, that while never pleasant could be nothing but admired, if not to say, cherished. Maura smiled as she affixed the poem to her bathroom mirror, its rough, torn edges and its antique beauty standing in quiet contrast to the modern contemporary style of the bright colors, white porcelain and smooth chrome around it.

Finishing her morning preparation, Maura let her eyes wander back to the verse on the mirror:

_Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

_The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break,_

_It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake_

_The o'ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake!_

_She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee:_

_Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee,_

_Already they watch the path thy feet shall take:_

_Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

_And if thou tarry from her, - if this could be, -_

_She cometh herself, O heart, to be loved, to thee;_

_For thee would unashamed herself forsake:_

_Awake, to be loved, my heart, awake, awake!_

_Awake! The land is scattered with light, and see,_

_Uncanopied sleep is flying from field and tree;_

_And blossoming boughs of April in laughter shake:_

_Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

* * *

><p>"Maura asked me to teach her to play hockey," Jane snorted a little into her coffee as she said it, looking up to see Frankie laughing in tandem with her amusement.<p>

"You're kidding?" This was too good not to be given full attention. He set his spoon down in his soup and stopped, leaning back in the booth to await the full story.

"Not kidding. After the game when you had left. She said we haven't done anything…meaningful together. What's that about?" Jane looked to her little brother for insight. She'd never admit it to him. But, sometimes she felt like Frankie had a clearer perspective on things she couldn't see.

Frankie quirked an eyebrow but didn't respond. Jane didn't really ask for help. And she didn't really ask for other people to help her work her shit out. In some ways it was admirable, her independence and that desire to figure everything out for herself. He knew that was what made her a good detective and that was one way he wanted to be more like her. But, in some areas of life, it was a foolish approach. It was just how she was. He also knew that sometimes when Jane was really confused and unsure of herself, she'd try to ask for another opinion in some round about way. She didn't think he was on to her, but he was. So he waited, waited for her to vocalize a little more and he'd help her. Help her figure out what Maura meant, even though he knew that deep down, Jane probably knew exactly what her best friend had meant.

Jane sighed, pushing a piece of lettuce around her bowl with the edge of her fork, "I mean…I think she thinks that…I've been distant…or something. Like, maybe I don't value our friendship and this is something that will…I don't know."

_God, she can be so stubborn_. "Yes, you do." He crossed his arms and stared at her sternly. "Just, say it."

She growled under her breath, "She thinks…this will…bring us closer together. Like hockey is some kind of new-age BFF therapy," Jane chuckled as she said it. _Immersion._ It was so Maura. "But, I don't know why she thinks we need to be closer, like there's something wrong with our friendship."

"Really, Jane?" Now he was amused. Maybe she was that clueless.

Jane waved her fork in the air, pointing it at him with more than a note of indignation, "You know, Frankie, if you've got some stellar insight, out with it!"

"Do you think we changed, Janie? After the shooting?"

It wasn't what she expected him to say and it caught her off guard. She let her fork drop back to the bowl with a clang. She had tried so hard to not change. So hard…._Dammit._ Jane sat back, running a hand through her hair and glancing out the window of the café to the bustling city around. "How could we not…I guess."

"You know, I kept going to the department shrink, even after my required sessions were over and I was cleared."

Jane's mouth dropped, "What? You never told me…"

"I was embarrassed, for a while about it. I guess I thought it meant I wasn't capable of helping myself…like you seemed to be. But, Jane, it helped. I had all this fear and anger, and there were only two ways to deal with that: bottle it up inside and be miserable and eventually explode, or let it out on others all the time. I didn't want to do either of those. Dr. Gordon became like…my…well, bitching post as she called it," he chuckled. "But in the end I was able to let all that out on her and not on everyone else."

"So, what, Frankie? You're saying I kept it all bottled up or unleashed on everyone around me?" Jane's brow furrowed with confusion and irritation as she spoke.

"I'm saying…" he held his hand up in anticipation of her protest, "…and I just want you to hear me out. I'm saying that you've always had a bit of an…let's call it an edge. But, yeah, I think that you've been different since the shooting. In a lot of ways Janie, and not all bad. But, when you get angry, and sometimes I think you seem angrier more than you were before…I think maybe you should think about who you take it out on and why you take it out on them."

Jane's eyes dropped, guiltily staring into her half-finished salad. "Maura once said that not everyone would put up with my abuse."

Frankie smirked, picking up his spoon and diving back into his soup. _Damn, I'm good._

"Why does she put up with me?"

He shrugged, "Cause she loves you."

_What…how…?_ Jane looked up.

Frankie caught her eye and was puzzled at the picture of surprise on her face, "What? I mean she's your best friend? Like, practically family. But, you do seem to take out a lot of your shit on Maura."

Jane nodded, deep in thought as she returned to pushing the last of her salad around, "She wants to play hockey with me."

"So teach her to play hockey," Frankie said.

Jane smiled, spearing the last piece of grilled chicken, "I'll teach her to play hockey."

"Please take video," Frankie laughed as Jane chucked a balled up napkin at him.

* * *

><p>Maura fidgeted, putting her hair up and then pulling it down only to put it back up again. This was worse than getting ready for a date. She finally settled on a tight ponytail, opting for just some tinted moisturizer and a brush of powder before putting her hands on either side of the sink and taking a long hard stare in the mirror. Three nights ago, asking Jane to teach her to play hockey had seemed like the perfect idea. She fought the second-guessing to remind herself that it was.<p>

"What does one wear to their first hockey lesson?" she muttered, the Robert Seymour Bridges poem she had left attached to the mirror as sort of a new daily affirmation again drawing her eye.

"Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!" She read, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes as the words slipped past her lips.

She wasn't sure exactly when the realization hit her. As she contemplated it she was positive that in some form it must have always been there, in the back of her mind, slowly working its way to the fore. Jane was the most meaningful long-term relationship she had ever had, friend or otherwise. Closer in many ways than she had ever been with anyone, her parents, Garrett, even Ian. Three nights ago it occurred to her that she had never really fought for a relationship. She let herself be taken for granted; she let herself be used. Maura Isles, rarely ever asked for what she really wanted, she rarely ever asked for more.

"I'll be damned," Maura whispered to herself as she slung the large bag up on her shoulder and grabbed her keys, "I'll be damned if I'm going to let her slip away."

* * *

><p>Jane sat on the bench by the ice and watched her pop's childhood friend Carlo maneuver the zamboni around the rink, glassy trails of newly prepped ice shimmering in its wake. She loved the ice. She loved how the cold seeped into your bones until it was such a part of you that you weren't cold anymore; and you were part of it, skates binding your body to the icy surface. Skating was like dancing without the awkwardness; it was raw and aggressive yet there was a certain grace. Jane felt like a different and better version of herself on the ice, feminine yet athletic, free but with purpose.<p>

Carlo waved as he pulled the giant machine off the ice and Jane waved back, catching a glimpse of Maura out of the corner of her eye.

"You did not buy all of your own hockey gear?" Jane shook her head as Maura set the new bag down next to her old and ratty one.

"Of course I did, Jane."

"You could have just used my stuff you know, until you figure out if you even like this…or if you're even any good at it." Jane winked, prompting a slight scowl from her friend.

"I prefer to have my own gear. Besides, I won't be able to use your stuff when the league starts in a couple of months." Maura smiled pulling out the brand new hockey skates as she plunked down on the bench to lace them up.

"The league? What the…?" Jane laughed, "You are joking right? The league starts in two months. We've all been playing for years."

The smile on Maura's face and the twinkle in her eyes fell as her fingers stilled on the laces. _There you go again_. Jane bit down on her lip. "So…I guess it's a good thing you have last year's league co-mvp to coach you."

Maura's hands lifted and a slight smile again graced her lips as Jane's fingers gently brushed hers out of the way to take over lacing her skates. "You'll want these tighter than that," Jane said softly, "for support. Lace them as tightly as you can stand it."

Standing, Maura pulled the new stick from her bag, "Let's go!"

"Whoa! Easy there Gretzky!" Jane chuckled.

She lifted a finger in the air. "Ah. Wayne Gretzky. Regarded by many as the greatest player in the history of the National Hockey League. At the time of his retirement he held 40 regular season records, 15 playoff records and 6 All-Star record, leading point-scorer in NHL history, the only player to score 200 points or more in a single season, which he accomplished four times. His jersey number is retired by all teams in the league. And he won four Stanley Cups, all with the Edmonton Oilers." Maura punctuated her stats recitation with a tell-tale smirk and tilt of her head.

Jane crossed her arms; two could play at this game. "Not bad, talking google. Zdeno Chara, go."

"Hmm," Maura pursed her lips and let her eyes wander up towards the rafters as she thought, "Boston Bruins…Eastern European…" her voice trailed off. She looked in Jane's amused eyes that smiled with satisfaction at stumping her.

Jane chuckled, "Team Captain, Slovakian. Homework assignment, you will learn the entire starting roster for the Bruins and their career achievement stats. Capisce?" Maura nodded. "Now, first things first," Jane reached for the stick in Maura's hand and tossed it aside. "We do nothing with this, until I see if you can skate first."

* * *

><p>"How does that saying go? Like riding a bike?" Maura quipped as they took their first few glides across the ice.<p>

Jane watched the uneasy steps in front of her and let her hands fall to rest unobtrusively on Maura's hips. "You're thinking about falling."

Maura nodded, her own hands instinctively lowering to settle over Jane's.

"Don't…" Jane corrected her, causing Maura to raise them again. "Use them to balance for now. And don't think about falling. If you think about falling, you'll fall." She gave Maura a light squeeze, "Besides, I've got you."

Maura nodded again as she focused on moving instead of falling. _I've got you_. "Like always," she whispered.

"Hmmm?"

Maura looked over her shoulder for a moment and shook her head, "Nothing."

Jane couldn't help but smile, not only seeing, but feeling Maura relax into the moment, each step became more confident more fluid and soon a crisp breeze whipped up by their acceleration licked at her face. She let her fingers drag slowly across Maura's hips until they slipped away entirely and the feeling that overtook her was surprising. She let them hover, still within reach, but the desire that struck her was that she wished she were still holding on.

"Jane…"

"Still here," she skated alongside Maura clasping Maura's left hand with her right. "Good. You're doing good!" she smiled, skipping a half step as she turned around and continued to glide backwards.

"I can't do that," Maura's hand tightened around Jane's.

"Not yet, but you will. I'm going to let go, and skate in front of you and we're going to start out with some easy footwork drills, ok? You copy everything I do. We'll run through it a couple of times, and then I'm going to stop and you're going to keep going."

Jane pulled away, leading Maura on a couple of solo laps around the rink before starting the drills. She could hear Maura behind her, the scratch of those new blades cutting through the fresh ice, the eerie patches of silence when Maura held her breath and Jane held hers so she was sure to hear when Maura started breathing again. The occasional loud exhale or gasp as Maura fought to mimic her every step.

"Now, by yourself," Jane split off to the center of the ice and stopped watching Maura continue the drills. "That's it Maur! You've got it. Trust yourself. Breathe!" She laughed, shaking her head. "I know exactly what you're thinking about when you stop breathing."

"Oh?" Maura called out as she continued to skate.

"Yep…falling." Jane crossed her arms, pivoting to watch Maura move around the rink. It wasn't that Maura wasn't graceful that surprised her. She had expected a little jerky, perhaps even a bit clumsy. But, Maura didn't skate like the socialite that she presented on solid ground, when she was all dolled up in designer clothes and shoes that cost a patrol officer's monthly salary. Just like she'd watched Jane tape that hockey stick and had perfectly mimicked it on that new and no doubt top of the line stick she'd bought for herself; she'd copied everything about how Jane had shown her to do those drills as well, right down to her skating style and body posture.

"You look like a hockey player, Maur!" Jane shouted, chuckling as Maura glanced towards her with a huge grin. "Now, stop."

Silence.

"Like, stop skating, our time's almost up…the rink opens for morning public practice in fifteen minutes."

"Jane…I don't know how to stop."

"Sure you do. You saw how I stopped right? Ok, you're left leg is going to be your back leg. You're going to lift it slightly then lean back just a little bit as your rotate your hips and shoulders to the left and begin to turn your right leg. When your right foot is about 90 degrees then re-plant your left leg. Think of the ice as like a vegetable and your blade is going to peel the top. You should slide for a little bit and then you'll stop." Jane watched; she could almost see Maura thinking the mechanics through.

The sound of body smacking into ice was a little more bone jarring in an empty rink. Jane winced as she skated over and reached down for Maura's hand, "Perhaps we'll use these last fifteen minutes to work on that." She helped Maura to her feet and brushed the ice shavings from her back, more than aware of the tiny sniffle that her friend was trying so hard to hold in.

Jane took hold of Maura's chin and turned it, reaching up she caught the solitary tear that had clawed its way out and whisked it away. "Hurt didn't it?" Maura nodded, crinkling her brow at Jane's seeming lack of sympathy. "It's gonna hurt a lot more when someone body checks you into the boards. There's no crying in hockey."

Maura nodded again, taking a deep breath.

Jane cocked her head and admired the look of determination in her friend's eye, "Ice," she pointed down, "or exit," she pointed to the bench.

"Ice," Maura smirked as she skated away.

"Well, ok then Gretzky," Jane laughed as she followed.

* * *

><p>"Awake, My Heart." Robert Seymour Bridges<p> 


	3. La Fleur Que Tu M'avais Jetée

**Author's Note: **Thank you all for the feedback so far. There is an author's note citation at the end that I believe I forgot to leave in an earlier chapter.

**CH 3: La Fleur Que Tu M'avais Jetée *The Flower That You Tossed to Me**

Sometimes she just checked out. It didn't happen often but when physical exhaustion, mental fatigue and too many thoughts allied to simultaneously bombard her body she just shut down. Jane imagined that never happened to Maura; she seemed able to process nearly an unfathomable amount of concurrent tasks and juggle an infinite amount of information. She wasn't Maura. She also wasn't even aware that she had been sitting slouched at her desk for the past half an hour, chin propped on her fist, staring blankly at the wall over Frost's shoulder.

"Jane…" Frost resorted to snapping his fingers in front of her face. "Anyone home?"

"What? Dammit. Sorry, think I sort of shut down there for a minute," Jane ruffled her hair as she leaned back and stretched, taking a look at her watch.

"More like thirty minutes," he laughed. "What's up? Thinking about the case…or maybe…." Frost smirked, ever since that day when he'd caught Jane skyping with Casey like some lovesick teenager he liked to get a good rib in on it from time to time. "…hit a pothole in the convoy trail with G.I. Joe?"

Jane pursed her lips and put on her best Rizzoli scowl. She knew she deserved it though. It had been uncharacteristic of her. Not just the skyping at work, all of her behavior towards Casey. He had said he didn't need girly Jane, that he liked her just the way she was, rough around the edges; yet, something about their chats together seemed to belie that. Sometimes it felt like he did want that, like he responded better to her when she acted like that, and so she'd let herself assume that persona. It bothered her, bothered her when other people noticed but bothered her most of all when she sat back at night and took stock of it on her own.

It was hard to explain sometimes to other people that she felt feminine just as she was. She didn't need any extra affectation of society's image of femininity and she didn't want anyone who wanted her to be like that. Yet, over the past months, there she was, giggling and cooing into a computer screen, and talking to Maura about Casey as if she was some love struck sixteen year old. But Jane wasn't in love with Casey, not if being in love meant acting like someone Jane didn't like. And she was starting to realize that she didn't like who she had become.

"Shut up," she fired back with a smirk as Frost chuckled. "Nah, just tired I guess. Had an early start to the day at the hockey rink with Maura."

"With Maura?" Frost raised an eyebrow and looked at her with disbelief.

"Maura wants to learn to play hockey, so, I'm teaching her to play hockey."

Frost snorted under his breath and nodded, "That must be a sight. In fact, I may need to see this for myself…"

Jane waved him off, "It's…I don't know, something she wanted us to do together. Ever since I came back to work it's just been case after case, or family drama or something. I think she just wants to spend some…quality time with me or something…and God, I must be tired, why am I telling you all this?" She laughed, checking her watch again and looking at the stack of files she'd barely gotten through.

Frost leaned back in his chair and put on the best Freudian accent he could muster, "Dr. Frost is at your…disposal," he laughed with a wink as he crossed his arms.

Their shift had been over two hours ago and yet the Johnson case files seemed to have given birth to more files in the thirty minutes she lost when her brain shut down. Jane sighed, flipping open one of the folders as she tried to force herself to focus on what was in front of her.

"Hey," Frost interrupted, "Why don't you head out. I'm really not tired; I'll stay and work on the case for a little bit longer and we'll just pick back up in the morning."

Jane nodded, gathering up her things she turned to leave but paused, spinning back around, "Thanks."

* * *

><p>Maura winced, rolling from her right hip to her left and transferring the ice pack to the side that had taken the brunt of the punishment in learning how to stop. <em>Worth it, worth it, worth it<em>. She told herself over and over again. Worth it, perhaps, but it didn't make the subdural hematomas hurt any less. And yet, the overpowering thought was not necessarily of the pain for pain's sake but rather whether or not she would physically be able to meet Jane for another lesson in the morning. She could have stopped after the first fall, asked that they continue the next day. But, some voice…some emotion inside her had something to prove. So, she had pushed for those last fifteen minutes of ice time, attempted stop after attempted stop each time met with the hard reality of body slamming into ice.

She wanted to cry, each time she fell…out of pain and out of frustration. Yet, Jane was always there, hand reaching down to help her back up and the warmth of her touch made the cold of the ice and the sting of the spreading contusions not seem so stark. Jane didn't cry, not over something like falling while playing hockey, and she was determined not to either.

_This is it._ Jane had called out as their time ticked down, the morning skaters already trickling in, mostly children and teenagers working in a practice before school. Maura smiled thinking about it, that last spurt down the rink, all of Jane's instructions running on repeat in her head, the new audience of onlookers. She had done it. It wasn't textbook and it wasn't pretty, in fact, no doubt the six year-old figure skaters outside the ice could stop with less wobble. Feeling like a newborn foal trying to stand for the first time aside, she had done it. She had stopped. And the feelings that rushed through her were less about the personal accomplishment of persevering through the task than the smile that Jane's clapping brought to her face when she did it.

Maura grinned, closing her eyes and letting the music rolling through the room wrap around her. She immersed her mind in the lyrics, the spoken voices on the recording the bouncy refrain of the Toreador song that slyly overtook them. Jane's knock at the front door went unnoticed, as did her eventual entrance; it wasn't until she rapped on the wall just inside Maura's bedroom door that Maura looked up and over her shoulder with a start.

"I guess you couldn't hear me over the music. I knocked and called your phone but you didn't answer, so I got the spare key from Ma." Jane lingered in the entrance, eyes fixated on Maura lying on top of the covers in only a t-shirt and her underwear, though she was partially covered by the small hand towel between her skin and the ice pack. She waited, wondering if she had breached some etiquette by coming in unannounced and finding Maura somewhat disrobed and lounging in bed.

Maura reached for the remote and turned the music down, "No, I didn't hear you." She looked back over her shoulder with a smile, "You can come in, Jane."

"Are you sore?" Jane sat on the edge of the bed behind her as she nodded and reached for the ice pack, "Can I?"

"I bruise quite easily," Maura watched as Jane gingerly peeled the towel back.

"Ouch." A pang of guilt set in. She should have told Maura to take it easy, not let her push herself so hard on the first day. "That is definitely a doozy, you're going to be really stiff and sore in the morning."

With nearly a mind of its own her hand began to settle lightly over the green and purple expanse that extended well beyond what her palm could even cover on the outside of Maura's thigh. Fingertips at first, trembling slightly as they came into contact with skin, she let her hand slowly lie flush against the heated area. Her thumb stroked back and forth a few times until her eyes caught Maura's staring back at her.

"Sorry! I…that probably hurt…" Jane pulled her hand away.

"No, it didn't…"

"I'll get you a fresh ice pack," Jane grabbed the spent gel pack and headed for the kitchen. She clenched her hand and opened it repetitively as she walked. Glancing at the scar on her palm, her mind was drawn to Hoyt and how the last time she had touched Maura in any way remotely so intimate was after their ordeal. Everyone had finally left the party, the party she put on a face for to please her mother. With most of the apartment lights dimmed to hide the ridiculousness of the pony decorations and the overwhelming mess from all the… "fun," they had sat on the sofa together in relative silence for an uncomfortable number of passing minutes. She had broken the stalemate; reaching for Maura's neck she pulled the bandage back to see where Hoyt had cut her. Her thumb had done the same thing then, stroked lightly back and forth across warm skin, though careful to avoid the neatly sutured laceration. _It's not that bad_, she had whispered, _it won't scar_. Maura had nodded, tears trickling down her cheeks as she slumped forward into a reassuring embrace.

Jane stared vacantly into the freezer, "She's right," she mused aloud. Somewhere along the line, after that day in the prison infirmary but starting before it as well, things had ceased to be what they once were. And she'd let them.

* * *

><p>"Thank you," Maura smiled as Jane replaced the towel and situated the fresh ice pack before swinging her feet up on the bed and lying back next to her friend. "We haven't done this in a while."<p>

Jane turned her head, "Done what?"

"Had a sleepover," Maura laughed.

"Ah," Jane smirked, "You really never had a sleepover before?"

"Never."

Jane reached out and checked the icepack, "Not too cold?" Maura shook her head. "You didn't miss much. I never really cared for them as a kid. The other girls just wanted to talk about boys and play with each other's hair and stay up late and watch sappy movies."

"What did you want to do?" Maura waited with rapt attention.

"Eat junk food, watch sports, not have to wash Gina Torini's excruciating attempts to prove she was the next great makeup artist off my face, and go to bed at a decent hour so I could get up for practice in the morning," Jane laughed. "She made us all look like streetwalkers, we would have scared Tammy Faye Baker."

"I don't think anything could make you look bad, Jane."

Jane turned her head to face Maura, "Think again…and…thanks" she added before staring back up at the ceiling.

"I would have enjoyed any of that…just being invited and feeling like there were people that wanted to be my friend…" Maura closed her eyes as her voice trailed off. The muted music in the background filling the silent void that settled between them for a moment.

"I could braid your hair and we could talk about boys if you want to recreate the…ambience," the corner of Jane's mouth turned up in a wicked smile as she placed extra emphasis on the last word.

"How is Casey?" Maura asked, trying to impart genuine emotion to the question though she wasn't sure if she was entirely successful. She had encouraged Jane to pursue Casey, to keep in contact with him while he was away; yet, she found she wasn't at all sad for Jane when he couldn't make it to the reunion. A part of her tried to convince her brain she should feel guilty about that, but only half-heartedly could she muster even the slightest shred of contrition.

"Good. You know, as good as one can be camped out in Afghanistan. He should get leave soon," Jane bit her lip; somehow she had the feeling Maura didn't really want to talk about Casey.

Jane's suspicions were confirmed when silence again settled between them. Maura was always one to pry for details, to encourage her to satisfy her sexual needs, but there had been very little of that usual banter between them lately. On more than one occasion Jane pondered whether Maura had become as tired with her schoolgirlish behavior as she herself had.

"Hey…" Jane watched Maura's eyes flutter open as she hummed. "Remember when you said I should think about if there was something you really loved that maybe you could share with me…"

The small smile lines at the corners of Maura's eyes lifted in an expression of surprised joy as she nodded.

"Well, I thought about it." Jane lifted her hands, staring at the jagged scars in the center of her palms. "I didn't play piano much anymore before…mostly holidays, you know, Ma would ask me to. After Hoyt, I stopped altogether. It's not like I really listened to classical music, but I played it. I enjoyed playing it. And you seem to really like this…" Jane waved at some imaginary musical scale in the air above her, "…this opera stuff. So, I thought maybe you would educate me on opera and then we could go to one. I think if I know how to appreciate it and what's going on, maybe it won't seem so boring."

Maura reached for Jane's hand and pressed her thumbs into the scar as she gave it a gentle massage, "I love that idea, Jane. When she would start?"

"Hmmm," Jane closed her eyes as a satisfied smile crept across her face, "How about now. But you'll have to stop massaging my hand or I'm going to fall asleep."

Maura took the stereo remote and clicked through a few tracks, setting it on pause for a moment, "I think the best way to start is to just listen to the music. You don't need to understand the words, not yet. Just listen. Feel it. In many instances you can deduce the mood of the scene simply by the tempo and tone of the orchestra and voice. This is Carmen, by Georges Bizet. It's one of the most famous and most performed operas and you're probably familiar with several of the arias from it as they have been utilized in such pop culture mediums as cartoons, commercials and even elevator music. Listen to this aria. Block everything else and just let the music and the voice lead you."

She turned the track up and let the dramatic tenor of James McCracken serenade, the aria building over rounded words to its declaratory climax:

_La fleur que tu m'avais jetée,_

_Dans ma prison m'était restée._

_Flétrie et sèche, cette fleur_

_Gardait toujours sa douce odeur;_

_Et pendant des heures entières,_

_Sur mes yeux, fermant mes paupières,_

_De cette odeur je m'enivrais_

_Et dans la nuit je te voyais!_

_Je me prenais à te maudire,_

_À te détester, à me dire :_

_Pourquoi faut-il que le destin_

_L'ait mise là sur mon chemin?_

_Puis je m'accusais de blasphème,_

_Et je ne sentais en moi-même,_

_Je ne sentais qu'un seul désir,_

_Un seul désir, un seul espoir:_

_Te revoir, ô Carmen, ou, te revoir!_

_Car tu n'avais eu qu'à paraître,_

_Qu'à jeter un regard sur moi,_

_Pour t'emparer de tout mon être,_

_Ô ma Carmen!_

_Et j'étais une chose à toi_

_Carmen, je t'aime!_

_(The flower that you tossed to me_

_In my prison stayed with me._

_Withered and dried, this flower_

_Kept always its sweet odor_

_And during all of the hours,_

_Over my eyes, I closed my eyelids,_

_I became intoxicated with this odor_

_And in the night I saw you!_

_I became accustomed to cursing you,_

_To detesting you, to saying to myself:_

_Why is it necessary for destiny_

_To put herself there on my path?_

_Then I accused myself of blasphemy_

_And I didn't feel but in myself_

_I didn't feel but one desire_

_A sole desire, a sole hope_

_To see you again, oh Carmen, to see you again!_

_For you had only to appear_

_Only to toss a glance towards me_

_In order to take a hold of all my being_

_Oh my Carmen_

_And I was yours_

_Carmen, I love you!)_

"Well?" Maura propped her head up and looked at Jane, her eyes still closed but a look of deep concentration on her face.

"It was beautiful."

"What was he singing about?" She waited, waited for Jane to process, but most of all to trust her instinct.

"I…don't know."

Maura played it again, letting it serve as background to her leading, "Yes, you do. Is it happy? Like a song of revelry?"

Jane pursed her lips and shook her head, "No. But…it's not sad. It sounds more like…longing. Longing for someone. Someone that he loves and he's building towards telling her that. And…I think, maybe at the end, he does." Jane opened her eyes and stared into the glistening hazel that looked back at her. Maura reached quickly to brush a solitary tear that threatened to fall from the corner of her eye.

"That's exactly right. In the end, he does tell her that he loves her. That his love for her was what kept him going. Et j'étais une chose à toi. Je t'aime." Maura let her head fall back into the pillow and closed her eyes.

Jane reached for the light and closed her own eyes momentarily as the room settled into darkness. "What does it mean? What you just said," she inquired, removing the ice pack from Maura's hip and wrapping it in the towel before setting it on the floor.

Maura smiled as Jane pulled the covers up over her, "His last words. And I am yours. I love you."

"Je t'aime?" Jane tried to mimic the sound, letting loose a husky chuckle as Maura giggled.

"That was good," Maura assured her sleepily. _Je t'aime, Jane_. "Je t'aime," she repeated once more before slipping off to sleep.

* * *

><p>I believe I forgot to mention it in Chapter 1, but the recorded version of Carmen I am using was conducted in 1972 by Leonard Bernstein and the Metropolitan Opera starring Marilyn Horne as Carmen and James McCracken as Don Jose.<p> 


	4. On The Wing

**Author's Note: **Thanks for the comments so far! This chapter contains some minor sexual suggestiveness though I think it still retains a T rating, just plopping a little FYI down. Also, I haven't posted this in a while but you can find me on twitter as TtownAmstaff or on Tumblr at .

**CH 4: On the Wing**

It had been an agonizing choice. Then again, Maura Isles always was one to fret over fashion. It wasn't just the magnificence of human ingenuity, the sheer awe provoked by what creativity spawned in the mind could guide the hands to actualize. It was so much more: personality, history, a roadmap charting the evolution of human kind. Fashion was all of those things. It was art of the most physical and functional nature, and Maura believed, truly believed that every choice when it came to fashion was absolutely telling of a person. A glimpse into the essence of who they were, both the net of their individual characteristics formed and set over time and the element of the here and now, the mood of the moment that had spurred them towards a certain selection.

She felt somewhat bad for the poor sales associate. No doubt he had never confronted a customer as thorough and contemplative as herself. Few were truly like her. Her mother and the similar ilk from the upper crust of high society had long ago eschewed doing the brunt of their shopping for themselves. That task had fallen on personal assistants or was farmed out to a relatively new niche in the retail world known as the personal shopper. People became divorced from their fashion; clothes were but a thing to them, empty window dressing with the greatest importance placed on the name on the label and the number on the price tag. The concept was anathema to her, very nearly offensive in its suggestion of disregard by the wearer.

Maura certainly found her eye and tastes often drawn to that which would be considered couture, and no doubt of a price range that placed items well out of the budget of the average individual. But she would never deny an appreciation for the cultural significance of things that fell into the category of the mass produced. It was fascinating, really. Because, to some fashion was a means of declaring uniqueness, a way to stand out. But, to many, it was equally a means to establish belonging; to signify visually a camaraderie via shared interests. It was modern tribalism, essentially no different than culturally specific tattoos, body paint, piercings or jewelry that had marked variations in indigenous peoples for centuries.

And so it was that Maura had found herself in the Bruins merchandise store laboring over the options before her: the Zdeno Chara black home jersey, the white away jersey, the yellow winter classic jersey or the St. Patrick's Day inspired Kelly green jersey. The clerk informed her that the home jerseys were the most popular. She still couldn't decide, so she bought one of each, slipped the clerk a tip for his patience and made her way home. If the home jersey was the most popular, she'd wear that one for her lesson the next day she decided.

* * *

><p><em>How does she do it?<em> Jane wondered, as Maura sauntered into the rink in that oversized black jersey. She even made hockey gear look like a fashion show.

"Nice touch," Jane smiled.

Maura acknowledged Jane from the corner of her eye with a sly smirk as she took a seat on the bench and pulled out her skates, "Zdeno Chara, born March 18, 1977 in Trencin, Czechoslovakia. He's the tallest player ever in the history of the NHL and played with the New York Islanders and Ottawa Senators before joining the Bruins in 2006. Notable career achievements include multiple All-Star game appearances, the James Norris Memorial Trophy awarded to the League's top defense player for the season in 2009, the NHL plus/minus award, and the Mark Messier Leadership Award, both in 2011."

"Impressive," Jane folded her arms.

Maura looked up, "I always do my homework assignments."

Jane chuckled, of course you do, "Ok, Dr. smarty pants, Patrice Bergeron."

Maura smiled as she stood, "July 24, 1985 in L'Ancienne-Lorette, Quebec. Drafted by the Bruins in 2003 he has won gold medals with Team Canada in the 2004 World Championships, 2005 World Junior Championships and the 2010 Winter Olympics. He plays center, shoots right and is a member of the Triple Gold Club for having gold medals in the Olympics, World Championships and winning the Stanley Cup. Incidentally he scored the Stanley Cup wining goal for the Bruins in 2011. Would you like to ask me another?"

Jane cleared her throat and puffed out her chest, "Nah, I uh, think you got it."

* * *

><p>Jane staggered some traffic cones emblazoned with "Property of BPD" on the ice in a zig-zag pattern. "Ok, first off, I ganked these cones from Traffic and what Lieutenant Ramirez doesn't know, won't hurt him. Line up at the corner of the quiet zone, skate to each of your cones; focus on nice tight changes of directions. Do that 10 times, then we'll add the puck. When you get to the last cone, arc to the high slot, take the puck, skate towards the goal and make a shot. Got it?"<p>

Maura nodded and set off on the drill.

"Good, good," Jane called out as Maura navigated the cones. "Your changes of direction are getting better. Remember, quick turns are a lot like stopping. Think…crisp!"

After the tenth drill, Maura skated to Jane, a smile plastered across her face, "How was that?"

Jane chuckled, maybe she'd missed her calling as a coach, "Really good Maur, you pick up things quick..."

"Quickly," Maura interjected, with the telltale point of her finger and toothy grin.

Jane arched an eyebrow, "If you bring up…Mr. Adverb again…"

"Oh, good, Jane! You do remember!"

"Maura!" Jane growled, "I'm trying to praise your skating improvement and you're correcting my grammar!"

Maura's eyes fell to the ice until Jane's words sank in, she looked up, "You think I'm doing well?"

Jane laughed with an airy exhalation, "Yeah, you're doing really well for only a week. You're a fast learner."

"How hard should I shoot now?" Maura skated off to start the drills over again.

"Not very, we don't want to test your balance too much just yet. Remember, try to keep your eyes up, I know it's hard because you're new and you want to look at the puck, but if you're looking at the puck you're not seeing what's around you. Try to feel where the puck is with your stick." as Maura turned Jane gave her a healthy slap on the ass and laughed at the surprised shriek that slipped out, "felt like the….coachy thing to do."

* * *

><p>Jane and Maura nearly sighed simultaneously as they walked into the crowded sandwich shop. Morning hockey practice worked up quite an appetite, and while Maura planned ahead and usually ate breakfast Jane tempted fate and waited for a lunch break that was never guaranteed depending on the case load, and so it was nearly two pm before Jane could put the Johnson case aside and slip out for a quick bite.<p>

"Still no break in the case?" Maura inquired as they took up their place at the end of the line.

The noise Jane made could only best be described as the marriage of a sigh and a growl, "Nope. We've interviewed all the colleagues, the family…your tox results tell us antifreeze, how much more generic and untraceable can you get?"

"I wish I could be of more help," Maura shoved her hands in her pockets and looked sympathetically at Jane. "I hate seeing you frustrated."

"Maur…I think that table is freeing up, why don't you grab it and I'll order for you?" Jane pointed to the couple vacating a table in the center of the café and pushed Maura towards it.

The line was moving at a decent pace. Jane glanced at her watch periodically; if she were a little late it wouldn't be the end of the world. Frost had more than willingly agreed to spend his lunch in the unit, grabbing a vending machine snack and continuing to toss out ideas on the Johnson case with Korsak. _He's been mighty accommodating lately_, Jane mused. For the first time it struck her that Frost had seemed different…telling her he'd stay late that night, encouraging her to get out of the unit and go to lunch with Maura. _He's just being nice…right?_

Contemplation on her partner's behavior completely overtook her, until the cashier's exasperated repetition of "Ma'am!" snapped her out of it.

"Sorry," she apologized, "Yeah, I'll have an Italian beef sandwich and a grilled chicken salad with two drinks.

"Jane."

The sultry tone of the voice stroked her ear and was paired with a warm yet possessive touch that settled on the small of her back. It all sent a shiver down Jane's spine as she slowly turned her head to see the brunette that she could more than feel pressed unnaturally close to her right side.

"Beth."

"Long time, no talk," the shorter brunette smiled, her hand rubbing ever so lightly in a small circle on Jane's back.

Jane stiffened, swallowing hard as she tried to glance around without it seeming too obvious, "I wouldn't necessarily call a month a long time."

Maura watched the encounter from the table, her eyebrow arching at the way in which they stood so closely together, Jane not seeming to make any attempt to move away.

"Has it only been a month?" Beth smiled, "Seems longer I guess. You know, Jane, I was thinking…I really would like to take you out, on a real date, dinner, drinks…something like that."

Jane shifted, turning towards Beth as the other woman's hand dragged from her lower back, across her hip until it slipped free. "You know, Beth, I told you I was…pursuing a relationship with someone else."

Beth nodded as Jane reached for the plates the clerk placed on top of the order out shelf, "That her?"

Jane froze, glancing over her shoulder and catching Maura's eye, causing the sandy brunette to look quickly back down at her phone. "What! No, that's Maura."

Beth smirked, "Ah, so that's Maura. She looked from the Medical Examiner and then back at Jane. "Whatever you say Jane. If you, uh, change your mind…again. I'm always a standing offer."

Jane set the plates of food down on the table and took a seat. It was too much to hope that Maura wouldn't have noticed the exchange between herself and Beth. She barely had a bite of sandwich in her mouth before…

"Who was that?" Maura asked, a forkful of salad suspended in mid air as observant hazel eyes stared at her intently.

Jane could feel the flush creeping up her neck, her uncooperative memory adding insult to injury with its graphic recall of the last time she saw Beth, the last night she had spent with her. Days had passed since the reunion and that feeling that seemed like disappointment that Casey hadn't made it had settled into the pit of her stomach, and elsewhere. Beth was a substitute; she always was, but not a bad looking one with her porcelain complexion, green eyes, that smattering of freckles across her chest, and those curves. When Jane walked into the Black and Gold bar that night, she kind of hoped Beth would be there; her usual weekend haunt frequented with the members of her league team. It didn't take much: a couple of drinks, some shameless flirting, a subtle nod and they were back at her apartment. Jane remembered the look of her fingers threaded through mahogany locks of hair that were splayed across her lap. The dip that ran down the center of the back arched in front of her; the way her skin shivered when Jane ran a finger down her spine. That night she wore pale pink lace panties that barely covered her ass as she moved between Jane's legs. Then there was the tattoo…the pink lotus flowers that swept from the small of her back below the waistband of her underwear, and the golden Koi fish that molded over her hip and out of sight given the angle.

Jane cleared her throat and ruffled her hair, making sure several large loose strands covered her ears, which she was sure were flaming red given her current train of thought. "Beth Warner. She plays in the league…not on my team."

Maura took a bite of her salad, not taking her eyes off Jane's futile attempt to hide how flustered she was. She chewed, slowly, waiting to see if Jane offered any further information. Nothing. "It seemed like you knew her pretty well…"

Brown eyes slowly lifted, _lie, Jane_. "Yeah, I guess so." _That's not a lie, you idiot._ "She has a crush on me." Word vomit. _Jesus Christ, Rizzoli._

Maura giggled, "That's not surprising. You're a beautiful woman, Jane."

Her jaw went slack and Jane was fairly sure a chunk of Italian beef was hanging out of her mouth; yet, Maura went on nonchalantly eating her salad as if the statement had been as banal as a mere declaration about the nature of the weather.

* * *

><p>A breathy exhale and Jane cut her eyes towards the ceiling. Her hand wandered from her neck and traced slowly across the light knit fabric covering her collarbone. Since Beth it had been a month. She hadn't even bothered touching herself. It seemed inadequate, when desire yearned so strongly for the touch of someone else. Inadequate, yes, because the ache was always there, the slow persistent build that could only be temporarily appeased but never fully satisfied. Her body wanted more, more than what she could give herself, more than the momentary relief those nights with Beth had provided. Jane let her hand slide under the collar of her robe, lingering on the edge of bone before pushing the robe further to the side to drag down her sternum…<p>

"There's a sight for sore eyes…"

Jane jumped, jerking her hand back before looking to her side where the laptop was open and facing her. She shook her head and pulled the computer into her lap.

"Casey, you…startled me. I was starting to think you weren't going to get any free time tonight," Jane cleared her throat, thankful that the skype feed likely wasn't clear enough for the signs of her embarrassment to be visible. She pulled the two sides of her robe closer together across her chest.

"I always do everything I can to arrange time with you," he smiled; that bright smile that shone through the olive and khaki drab that always surrounded him. It was one of the things that had never changed after all the years that had passed between high school and that night at the awards ceremony. She would have known that smile anywhere. It was what drew her to him in their younger years, what kept her there now…the happiness a smile like that promised.

"Have you heard anything else about getting leave?" Jane chewed lightly on the inside of her lip as she asked. The sensation of falling that gripped her chest as she asked wasn't purely a feeling of anticipation at hearing the word yes and the concrete details; it was also a feeling of uncertainty. She tried to breathe slowly, hide the quiver she could feel in her lip as fear flapped erratically in her chest, wings and feathers crashing into bone and viscera…trapped.

"In about a month I think. Waiting on the final approval. I don't foresee any problems this time though, not after my last leave getting pulled; I should be first in line," Casey paused, scooting closer to the screen, his blue eyes retaining a life despite the tell-tale signs of fatigue that marked his face and voice in every other way.

Jane sat silently, almost awkwardly, watching Casey stare back at her from the screen.

"I meant it when I said you are a sight for sore eyes," he broke the silence, "and no doubt you'll be a touch for sore arms. I can't wait to be sitting there next to you, hold your face between my hands, feel your lips against mine…"

"What are you doing?" Jane asked skeptically, clearing her throat as she arched an eyebrow.

"I'm alone," he answered with a smirk.

"Not what I asked you."

Casey reached out, running his finger along Jane's outline on the screen, "Do you think about me? At night. Maybe…at times like right before I called your name a few minutes ago, when your hand was under your robe?"

Jane's eyes darted around before centering again on Casey, "Maybe," she mumbled softly.

"I think about you. I think about seeing you, just like that, lying in bed in nothing but your robe and I'm there, tugging slowly on the end of the tie until its undone."

Jane bit down on her lip, "You're really alone?"

"Completely," Casey replied with no hesitation.

"Like this?" Jane set the computer next to her and let her hand grasp the robe's sash and pull the bow loose.

"Mmhmm," his breath hitched as he continued, "and I'd let my hands caress down your neck and over your shoulders as I pushed that robe away. You're beautiful Jane, you always have been. I want to see you."

Jane reached for the collar of the robe just below each shoulder. She glanced down and could see that it had already fallen partially open revealing the dip between her breasts and all the way down her abdomen to the waistband of her underwear. She closed her eyes. The frightened flapping inside her didn't still, it grew stronger, more painful. Wings were claws, tearing and scratching and the quickened pace of her heart thumped louder and louder until she wasn't even sure she could hear her own thoughts. _Stop it._ Jane could feel the fabric between her fingers, feel the edges of the robe sliding further and further off her shoulders, the once soft jersey knit felt coarse, scratchy as it began to fall away.


	5. Pretense and Daring

**Author's Note:** Sorry for the somewhat evil cliffhanger…oh, who I am kidding, not I'm not! ;) (evil author humor) In any event, I am sorry for the delay, it's been a busy week.

**CH 5: Pretense and Daring**

_Jane reached for the collar of the robe just below each shoulder. She glanced down and could see that it had already fallen partially open revealing the dip between her breasts and all the way down her abdomen to the waistband of her underwear. She closed her eyes. The frightened flapping inside her didn't still, it grew stronger, more painful. Wings were claws, tearing and scratching and the quickened pace of her heart thumped louder and louder until she wasn't even sure she could hear her own thoughts. Stop it. Jane could feel the fabric between her fingers, feel the edges of the robe sliding further and further off her shoulders, the once soft jersey knit felt coarse, scratchy as it began to fall away._

* * *

><p><em>Stop it.<em> The robe was sliding in excruciating slow motion and though her brain begged her hands to stop they seemed to proceed emboldened by a free will of their own. Jane closed her eyes, feeling the fabric drag across the inside of her breasts and linger at her nipples. _Stop it._ Her eyes flashed open and she pulled the robe closed with a frantic jerk with one hand while the other reached out and slammed the laptop shut with a brutal slap.

The overwrought flurry in her chest drummed in her ears. She slipped her hand under the robe and clutched at the spot where her heart threatened to shred its way through flesh and bone. Jane held her breath and let the living percussion section behind her ribs overwhelm her senses. Everything in her was striking, pulsing, beating and nothing was still. The entire last ten minutes of the evening had been…they had been…Jane opened her eyes and looked at the closed computer. _That was so wrong_.

As she moved her hand from her heart she could feel a few drops of perspiration trickle in burning streams from her neck and down her chest. She watched as they disappeared into a crease in her abdomen. The quiet didn't help. The street was vacant, all the neighbors in bed and there she was sitting on her bed dying to scream but using every last ounce of self-control she had to stifle it.

There was always her familiar pacifier. Jane fired up the vacuum and began making half-hearted passes around the living room, but the mechanical purr of the vacuum's motor did little to drown out the burgeoning insecurity that had wiped all other thought from her brain.

"What's wrong with me?" she muttered, switching the vacuum off and directing her attention to Joe Friday who was lounging on the sofa. She flopped down next to Joe and pulled the shaggy dog into her arms. "It just wasn't right you know? It never was, I guess…Casey. Dean. Might just be you and me for a while…a long while." Another sigh.

This was when it came. Insecurity. Always in the dark of night. Stillness was its gateway. Jane had never admitted that to anyone, that what she feared most were the moments of quiet in the evening when self-questioning wracked her brain and dug at the foundation of her confidence. She was alone. And the various bodies that had passed through her bed did little to alter that. Not Casey, not Beth, not any of the others. Insecurity and loneliness cut deeply and she had no power over them.

* * *

><p>The moment between consciousness and sleep is a tricky one, as if some epic duel is taking place between mind and body. Think or let go. Sleep or awake. The contest made her jumpy and so it was that the pounding on her front door shocked Maura from her semi-conscious state with a slight shriek followed by a deep gasp as she bolted upright, hands gripping frantically at the sheets as she clutched the edge to her chest.<p>

Maura peeked through the window and opened the door, a confused look on her face, "Jane…you startled me, is everything…"

"I think I just broke up with Casey." She just blurted it out, brown eyes looking quickly down at her feet as she fidgeted with the zipper on her sweatshirt. Maura stepped aside, but Jane didn't move. Fixated on the concrete beneath her feet she just stared, "I just…it wasn't…"

"Jane…" Maura's voice was soft and her hand closed around Jane's fingers and pulled them away from the zipper, "Come inside."

* * *

><p>Silence. Somehow now it didn't seem so awkward. Jane stared ahead at the blank big screen tv but she could feel Maura scoot closer to her on the sofa, feel the gentle weight of her hand as it settled and formed lightly to her shoulder. No words. Patience was one of Maura's finest virtues. She would wait, minutes, hours, or longer if that's what Jane needed before she felt comfortable to talk.<p>

"Are you sure I can't fix you some tea?" Maura asked for the second time to a repetitive shake of Jane's head. "Wine? Or I have your beer…"

Jane cut her eyes towards her friend, "I really don't want anything…but, thank you."

The night crept onward. Jane would shift; lean her head back and close her eyes every now and then, fidget with her shirt or run a hand through her hair. The entire time Maura's hand never left her shoulder and as the minutes passed Jane realized all of her maneuvering had just leaned her closer into Maura's side.

She sighed, "We were chatting on skype. He wanted to…he said he was alone and he wanted me to…" Jane bit her lip and looked at Maura, raising her eyebrows and nodding her head hoping perhaps the at times oblivious doctor would catch her drift.

"Oh!" It finally dawned on her, "I believe it's called cyber sex, the act of engaging in erotic conversation while pleasuring oneself for a partner via web cam…"

"I know what it's called, Maura!" Jane growled, covering her face with her hands as her thumbs massaged her temples.

"Jane…" Maura's hand squeezed her shoulder, "There is actually a great deal of research coming out that suggests….well, which extols the benefits of electronic communication whether by phone or computer in helping long-distance couples maintain an active and healthy sexual connection with one another."

Jane crinkled her brow and gave Maura a somewhat icy stare as she leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees, "You don't understand…I'm not…actually opposed to the idea…in theory. I mean, it wouldn't be my preference, but I wouldn't say never. And I started to…undress for him. It was just wrong. It was just wrong, Maura. I think it's been wrong all this time and I didn't realize it until that moment. I didn't want him to see me like that; I didn't want to…do that for him." Jane stiffened, sitting up straight as she gripped her knees.

Maura could feel Jane's skin shiver as her hand snaked under the worn out grey sweatshirt and stroked up and down her back on top of the thin t-shirt underneath. On the final down stroke, Maura felt Jane relax, one vertebrae and muscle group at a time until she slumped forward again before allowing Maura to pull her into an embrace.

"I'm…sorry," Maura whispered as she pressed her cheek to Jane's.

Jane blew out a deep exhalation and smiled as Maura giggled at the sensation tickling across her neck, "It just seems like every time I think I want someone…I don't." Jane pulled away and leaned against the back of the sofa. "I don't want to talk anymore. I don't know that I'm even making sense. Maybe…we could just listen to more of that music?"

Maura stood and fiddled with the sound system. "The Boston Opera Collaborative has a run of Carmen that opens in a week," she smiled over her shoulder as she dimmed the lights and made her way back to the sofa.

The opening overture was certainly not intended for relaxation as the frenetic strings accentuated by tinny cymbal crashes echoed through the room. Jane smiled, Maura had been correct when she first introduced her to the opera; many of the tunes were quite familiar though Jane could not put her finger on which popular culture co-optation had rendered them recognizable. She had read the synopses of all the acts and listening now to the opening she was struck by the music's foretelling of the end. The brash and lively score ebbed and flowed until it eventually melted into a much more somber tone: a harbinger of Carmen's eventual murder at the hands of her lover.

"Premiered in Paris in 1875, but was largely panned by critics. Though not comical, Carmen was in the style of opera comique – opera, which included both spoken dialogue and the traditional sung pieces. The genre had been somewhat static and faced competition in France from Italian alternatives. Despite its shaky first run, it was produced later in the same year in Vienna, which started its rise to popularity making it one of the most popular and most performed operas in the world. Carmen is also credited with being part of an operatic movement to depict more realistic aspects of every day life as well as blurring the line between serious, heroic opera and the more light-hearted opera comique," Jane let a smirk curl her lips as she finished, reveling in the look of surprise and admiration on Maura's face as she stared back.

Maura giggled under her breath as she nestled into the cushions, knees folding and resting ever so lightly against Jane's thigh.

"I know how to do homework too," Jane quipped, winking as her best friend yawned and inched closer and closer to her side as the effects of imminent sleep began to take control.

"Wait until you see it live," Maura's voice was barely a whisper, heavy lids falling unceremoniously over hazel eyes as she struggled to stay awake, "I'm so looking forward to taking you…"

In the back of her mind she knew that if she didn't get up right then and make her way to the bedroom she would fall asleep. But, the music was playing and she could feel the soothing heat from Jane's side. Maura let go, voice and instrument blanketing her, the final straw when her cheek lowered to Jane's shoulder and that comfortable resting spot didn't shrink away. Rather, Jane shifted slowly, with care and calculation to raise her arm and thread it behind Maura and wrap it around, anchoring them together.

The weight was hardly weight at all. For the first time that evening since her chat with Casey that malevolent and lingering burden seemed lifted. Jane closed her eyes but then slyly opened them as she checked Maura out to see if she was really asleep. Satisfied that she was Jane lifted her feet and rested them on the coffee table.

_If you're going to snooze on my shoulder, I'm going to prop my feet up._ Jane chuckled to herself, letting her head loll back and to the side so that her jaw and cheek settled against the crown of Maura's head.

_Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante,_

_je dis, hélas! que je réponds de moi;_

_mais j'ai beau faire la vaillante,_

_au fond du coeur, je meurs d'effroi!_

_Seule en ce lieu sauvage,_

_toute seule j'ai peur,_

_mais j'ai tort d'avoir peur;_

_vous me donnerez du courage,_

_vous me protégerez, Seigneur!_

_(I may say that nothing is scaring me, _

_and I'll take care of myself, oh dear!_

_But for all my pretense of daring,_

_Deep in my heart I'm full of fear!_

_In this wild place, so lonely,_

_All alone, I'm afraid,_

_But I'm wrong being afraid;_

_For I'll get courage from you only,_

_O Lord, I know you'll give me aid!)_

Her earlier fear that a sleepless night was in her cards was vanquished. Between the music and the comfort of Maura's touch Jane fought to hear the current aria to its conclusion.

_Je vais voir de près cette femme_

_dont les artifices maudits_

_ont fini par faire un infâme_

_de celui que j'aimais jadis!_

_Elle est dangereuse... elle est belle!..._

_Mais je ne veux pas avoir peur!_

_Non, non, je ne veux pas avoir peur!..._

_Je parlerai haut devant elle... ah!_

_Seigneur, vous me protégerez!_

_Seigneur, vous me protégerez! ah!_

_Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante,_

_je dis, hélas! que je réponds de moi;_

_mais j'ai beau faire la vaillante,_

_au fond du coeur, je meurs d'effroi!_

_Seule en ce lieu sauvage,_

_toute seule j'ai peur,_

_mais j'ai tort d'avoir peur;_

_vous me donnerez du courage,_

_vous me protégerez, Seigneur!_

_Protégez-moi! O Seigneur!_

_donnez-moi du courage!_

_Protégez-moi! O Seigneur!_

_protégez-moi! Seigneur!_

_(I will see that woman, be close to her…_

_Vile tricks that she is mistress of_

_Have turned into an evildoer_

_The one with whom I was in love!_

_She's dangerous and she's a beauty!_

_But I don't want to be afraid!_

_No, no, I don't want to be afraid!_

_To speak before her is my duty… Ah!_

_O Lord, I know you'll give me aid!_

_O Lord, I know you'll give me aid! Ah!_

_I may say that nothing is scaring me, _

_and I'll take care of myself, oh dear!_

_But for all my pretense of daring,_

_Deep in my heart I'm full of fear!_

_In this wild place, so lonely,_

_All alone, I'm afraid,_

_But I'm wrong being afraid;_

_For I'll get courage from you only,_

_O Lord, I know you'll give me aid!_

_Give me your aid, O my Lord!_

_Give me strength, give me courage!_

_Give me your aid, O my Lord!_

_Give me your aid, O Lord!)_

"You should be awake, you know? Telling me what she's saying. I guess I'll do it your way." Jane let the music bleed into her and with every heartbeat the soul of the music pumped deeper into her veins and the earlier wrongness of the moment with Casey receded, pushed further and further to her extremities until the horrifying awkwardness was all but gone.

"She's strong, this woman. But, she doesn't really know it. Some of the strength is a façade…at least she thinks it is, an act that she puts on to protect herself from whatever trial she is facing. She thinks she needs something more; she doesn't realize she has everything she needs." Jane took a deep breath and held it, felt the steady rhythm in her chest before letting the air seep out until empty. "I'm probably completely off, right Maur?" Only barely noticeable sleep-induced breaths responded.

She could just barely reach the remote in order to turn the music off. _A façade, she has everything she needs_. Jane closed her eyes, the pleading last notes of the aria still ringing in her ears. _Maybe…maybe I just mean me._

* * *

><p>Jane knocked lightly on the outside of Maura's office door before poking her head inside, "Hey, sorry, I was meeting with the Prosecutor on another case. You got something on the Johnson homicide?"<p>

Maura stood and beckoned for Jane to follow her to one of the lab computers, "I called in a favor at Quantico. They have more advanced toxicology testing than we do. Something about the ethylene glycol results I got didn't look quite right." Maura pointed to the screen, "On the left are the chemical properties of traditional ethylene glycol, what you would find in say automotive antifreeze. On the right is the sample from Jared Johnson."

Jane glanced back and forth between the two reports, "Umm, yeah…well, I guess they look different but you know Chemistry wasn't my best subject."

Maura smirked, accentuating the glint in her eye she always got before she was about to regale something with case-altering knowledge, "The sample from your Johnson case is what is called virgin ethylene glycol; virgin EG is created by taking ethylene and putting it through a process known as steam cracking. You would find it used in manufacturing industries where the purity requirements for creating plastic containers would be more stringent than in the automotive industry. Something like, plastic bottles that would hold liquid for human consumption or medical containers for bio-samples."

Jane tapped her foot as she thought, "So, this virgin EG, your average Joe wouldn't really have access to that?"

"Highly unlikely," Maura responded, "Access would be limited to someone who works in the chemical's production or in plastics manufacturing."

"Excellent, I can have Frost cross-reference all of Johnson's close friends and family with any manufacturing companies in Boston that would use this type of antifreeze. Thanks Maur!" Jane turned to leave but was stopped by Maura calling out her name.

"Jane, I…I'm sorry I fell asleep on you last night. Literally, and well…if you needed to talk anymore about Casey, or…" suddenly the thoughts didn't sound the same as she verbalized them as they did in her head. "…Or why it was wrong."

Jane shoved her hands in her pockets and rocked back and forth from the balls of her feet to her heels, she looked up, smiling at the sincere look of concern on Maura's face. "You can sleep on my shoulder anytime. I don't know, I just…like all that crap I was saying leading up to the reunion, about being a failure because I wasn't married with kids? I was being overdramatic; but there was some truth to it. I don't feel like a failure but I spent a lot of years telling myself I was fine on my own and now…"

"Now you realize it might be nice to not be alone?" Maura completed her thought.

Jane nodded, "But, no one I try to not be alone with feels right. But…" Jane waved her hand in the air, "Maybe that's a conversation to have over a beer. I should go see if your new tox results get us anywhere on this Johnson case."

Jane's hand was on the morgue doors before Maura called out again, "Jane." She stopped and turned, lingering in the doorway. "The right one is out there. Maybe, closer than you think."

Jane laughed and then smiled with a nod, "Right. See you later."

Maura watched the door swing back and forth until it settled. _Maybe…maybe very close._

* * *

><p>The aria in this chapter is Micaela's aria from Carmen, "Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante." The translation is by Jacob Lubliner, UC Berkeley.<p> 


	6. A Trial of Will

**CH 6: A Trial of Will**

December was up to her old tricks again. The bait and switch. She slinked in docile and subdued, a veritable lamb and the yearly banal conversations around the water cooler circled: maybe this winter won't be so bad. The beast always shed her wool, revealed her true nature – all teeth and claws. Jane stood outside the doors of the skating rink and bounced from foot to foot, clutching the two hot coffees to her chest as if they provided some type of real heat source. She leaned down so the steam could warm even the smallest patch of skin on her reddened face.

_When did it get so cold?_ Jane clenched her teeth to keep them from chattering and looked up as a light flurry began to fall again. She closed her eyes and let the tiny crystals pepper her face. Parts of winter weren't so bad: when there was a lazy day to just enjoy the snow it was like being a kid again. Christmas decorations had been up around town since Thanksgiving and the growing sea of white would continue to accent them in the coming weeks. Skating always seemed more fun when the real winter hit, like strapping on a skating boot didn't count until there was snow on the ground and the thermometer registered less than freezing.

"You look very serene for standing out in the frigid early morning air."

Maura's voice and giggle brought her back from her thoughts.

"Just thinking about the snow," Jane held out the extra cup of coffee. "Carlo's late. The rink is locked." She shielded her eyes to again look in the doors of the building as if to signify by demonstration that indeed no one was there.

Maura wrinkled her nose, "We could wait? But if he's very late then we could be late. And I've really been working on my flip shot and was looking forward to showing you!"

Jane laughed, taking a sip of her coffee, "I've got an idea. Come on."

* * *

><p>Maura couldn't hold back the smile as she followed Jane through the park to the small outdoor rink. A few icicles hung as if carefully placed by some steady hand from the edges of the playground equipment and muted footprints, partially covered by the flurries from the previous night ran in swirls around them. Traffic from the neighborhood roads was light and had it been spring a good three-fourths of the neighborhood surrounding the park would have been obscured by foliage.<p>

"This is perfect…" Maura whispered, stopping to admire the scenery.

"Hmm?" Jane turned.

"This…this park, right now, in winter, it's perfect…it's beautiful," Maura sat on the edge of the rink wall that Jane patted.

Jane looked out on the park and back to Maura as she handed her the skates from her bag. _It is, isn't it?_ "We used to come here as kids, after school, on the weekends. Roller hockey in Spring and Summer. When it goes down below freezing the fire department sprays down the rink for several nights and lets it freeze. It's not regulation size…"

Maura swung her legs over and skated off, leaving Jane to give chase with their sticks and the puck. She stopped center ice and took notice of the wall of barren trees skirting the edge of the park. A gust rifled through them, spraying collected snowflakes in a shower to the ground. Every so often the hollow crack of a twig or branch giving way to winter's unceasing punishment could be heard.

Jane slid to a stop behind her and tried to follow Maura's gaze, "You ok?"

"I…was remembering a poem I read not too long ago," Maura looked over shoulder into soft brown eyes

"Oh?"

Maura nodded and began to recite:

_The Snow that never drifts -_

_The transient, fragrant snow_

_That comes a single time a Year_

_Is softly driving now -_

_So thorough in the Tree_

_At night beneath the star_

_That it was February's Foot_

_Experience would swear -_

_Like Winter as a Face_

_We stern and former knew_

_Repaired of all but Loneliness_

_By Nature's Alibit -_

_Were every storm so spice_

_The Value could not be -_

_We buy with contrast - Pang is good_

_As near as memory -_

"Sounds…sad," Jane mused.

"Many poets use winter as a metaphor for death. The starkness of it forces reality. Everything is stripped bare, made simpler and unavoidable; it is the perfect counterpoint to ideals of transcendent hope…"

"How…cheery," Jane interrupted with a smirk.

"Dickinson was a master of hiding meaning in her work; it can often be difficult to wade through the literal to find the deeper message," Maura took her hockey stick from Jane.

"So, what does she mean in that one?" Jane dropped the puck to the ice and made a short pass to Maura as they began their drills.

"I…I don't know, really. I haven't taken to a deep study of her work. But, I think there is more to winter than just as a metaphor for death and dying." Maura guarded the puck from Jane's attempts at a steal. "I think if Spring and Summer are supposed to epitomize our tendency to idealize the world around us then another way to view them is as symbolic of our propensity to hide things, to embrace ignorance and a driving hope that we never try to actualize. Then, winter equals truth, a trial of the will; a time when we're challenged by the stripping down of nature to strip ourselves of all the distracting adornments we erect to avoid the truth. Winter is sobering, but in this sea of frozen white and grey it is opportunity. And by enduring the trial, we reap the reward."

Distracted by her thoughts, Maura gasped as Jane checked her, harder than any of the previous sending her reeling off balance. A quick arm lassoed her around the waist and prevented her fall. Jane's arm remained looped around Maura even after she had reestablished her footing.

"Sorry," Jane chuckled, flashing an apologetic smile, "that was maybe a little hard…"

"You can't always be there to break my fall, you know," Maura reached for the loose strand of brunette hair that had fallen in front of Jane's face and gently tucked it behind her ear.

Reluctantly, the arm anchored around her body fell away, Jane nodded, "I know." Maura skated off, leaving Jane at center ice where winter musings had first transformed into an analysis of truth and hope. Jane cleared her throat and winced as a biting wind streaked across her nearly numb face.

"Doesn't mean I won't always try," she mumbled, reaching down for her stick.

* * *

><p>Frankie cussed under his breath as he struggled to dissect the innards of Jane's garbage disposal. "Janie, I swear to God if you've been putting potato skins in the drain…"<p>

Jane chuckled, taking a seat where she could survey her brother's work, "I'm not Ma, it's been acting up off and on for a long time."

Metal on metal clanged under the sink and Jane knew her brother was doing everything in his power to restrain from unleashing a fury of obscenities at the pipes. He wasn't really his father's son. Tommy had been the one to follow their father everywhere as a child; he knew every tool, every screw and all of their uses. No, Frankie had spent his days following Jane around and given the choice of helping Frank Sr. fix a toilet or help his mother cook he would have chosen the latter. Jane smiled, with her father off galavanting who-knows-where with his newfound freedom, little fix-it tasks she had taken his help for granted on seemed much more prominent. And yet, when she had called, it was Frankie that picked up the slack so she didn't have to crawl under her kitchen sink before the opera.

"Saw Frost today, he said you guys closed the Johnson case?" Frankie finally freed the pipes so he could get a look at the disposal motor.

"Yeah, turned out the next door neighbor worked a medical supply manufacturing company where he snagged the special antifreeze or whatever Maura called it. And do you know what his motive was? Our vic let his dog crap on his lawn. Can you believe that?" Jane shook her head, each new year on the job never failed to bring evidence of the new lows mankind could sink to.

"I can believe a lot of things," Frankie hauled himself out from under the sink, disposal contraption in hand, "I think the motor's shot. I can run down to the hardware store, pick up a new one and have it all done by the time you get home."

"Damn, thanks Frankie," Jane huffed.

"You know what I am having a hard time believing?" The corner of his lip turned up in a half smirk as he said it, "You…going to the opera."

There it was. She'd been waiting for it all evening. Jane pointed her finger at him accusingly, "Hey! Besides! Didn't you encourage me to take her up on this whole little cultural trade…experiment…whatever it is?"

Frankie wiped his hands on a towel and then held them aloft submissively, "Hey! I think it's great…you and Maura spending more quality time together. Seriously, you've seemed…happier and," _less irritable_, "uh, you know, more like…"

Jane's eyes fell to the counter, her fingers pulling nervously at the hem of the little black dress she'd worn only once, "more like…before the shooting," she completed his sentence. He was right; he'd been right all those weeks ago when they had first talked about how everything had changed. How she had changed. She had let it happen, had let the pain, betrayal, anger and loneliness bury her until some person she barely recognized was who stared her down in the mirror each morning. But it didn't have to be that way and slowly Jane felt like she was regaining lost parts of herself, one slap shot and aria at a time she was reestablishing her own truth.

Frankie started to comment but a knock at the door interrupted him. He opened the door and stood mouth agape as a red, silk-clad Maura Isles strode into the apartment.

"Good evening, Frankie," Maura smiled warmly as she walked past.

His eyes followed her, practically molesting her from head to toe.

"Ahem!" Jane raised her eyebrows sternly, "Don't you," she cocked her head towards the open door, "have a hardware store to get to?"

He shook his head, "Uh…yeah. Hardware store." Frankie snickered as he eyed Maura eyeing Jane, "You girls…uh, ladies, have fun tonight."

Maura waited a few seconds after the door was closed to look back at Jane, "If I didn't know better I'd say he blushed," she punctuated the statement with a coy smile.

"He was uh, working on my sink, it's…hard word," Jane couldn't stop herself from taking in the vibrant scarlet dress, one shoulder, the silk formed to Maura's body as if it had been specifically made just for her. _Who are you kidding? It probably was._

"You look a little flushed too, you're not feeling ill are you?" Maura reached the back of her palm towards Jane face but had it lightly swatted away.

"No, no, I'm good. You look…really…" Jane cleared her throat, "beautiful," it finally slipped out, soft and understated but stated aloud nonetheless.

Jane squared her shoulders and smiled as she could swear it was Maura who was now blushing.

"Thank you. As do you. You should wear that dress more often, it suits you." Maura slipped her coat on, her dress only entrance for effect having been more than noticeably effective…on both Rizzolis as an added bonus.

Jane pulled hers on as well, "I still feel…I don't know. Awkward in it. It's short…and tight…"

Maura spun around, reaching for the top button of Jane's coat, which the squirmy detective had left purposefully undone and with a quick flick, she fastened it. "You should feel nothing less than stunning and statuesque…" her fingers lingered for a moment on the coat's lapel before she let them fall away with a shy smile.

* * *

><p>Captivating. Every bit of the research and Maura's extensive instruction had paid off. Jane sat enthralled as the fourth and final act began. Exotic and sharp rhythms teased the audience as the excitement built, and despite knowing that the moment being built towards was Carmen's death at the hands of her once love Don Jose, Jane hung on every word and every movement.<p>

Maura had found herself capable of keeping her focus on the stage before intermission. As they had stood having a glass of wine, Jane had launched into passionate commentary on the first two acts. Now, Maura couldn't help but steal a glance every now and then at her friend as the opera wound down.

_**Don José**_

_Carmen, il est temps encore,_

_O ma Carmen, laisse-moi_

_te sauver, toi que j'adore,_

_et me sauver avec toi!_

_**(Don José**_

_Carmen, you have your life before you,_

_O my Carmen, oh, let me save you,_

_Save you, for I adore you,_

_Then you will have saved me, too!)_

_**Carmen**_

_Non! Je sais bien que c'est l'heure,_

_je sais bien que tu me tueras;_

_mais que je vive ou que je meure,_

_non, non, non, je ne te céderai pas!_

_**(Carmen**_

_No, for I know it is time now,_

_And I know I'm going to die;_

_but if I live or if you kill me,_

_I'll not give in to you, not I.)_

_**Don José**_

_Carmen, il est temps encore,_

_O ma Carmen, laisse-moi_

_te sauver, toi que j'adore,_

_et me sauver avec toi!_

_**(Don José**_

_Carmen, you have your life before you,_

_O my Carmen, oh let me save you,_

_Save you, for I adore you,_

_Then you will have saved me too)_

_**Carmen**_

_Pourquoi t'occuper encore_

_D'un coeu D'un coeur qui n'est plus à toi!_

_u dis: je t'adore!_

_Tu n'obtiendras rien de moi._

_Ah! C'est en vain..._

_Tu n'obtiendras rien,_

_Rien de moi!_

_**(Carmen**_

_But why waste your time adoring_

_Someone who's no longer free?_

_No use your saying: "I adore you!"_

_You will get no more from me._

_You waste your time,_

_I'll give in no more,_

_Not to you!)_

If she twisted her hands together any harder Jane was sure the nail marks would last for days. She moved her left hand to the armrest where it bumped into Maura's. Glancing quickly she mouthed _I'm sorry_, as Maura relinquished the shared space. The exchange between Carmen and Don Jose grew more heated. Despite his pleas, his multiple professions of love, she rebuked him.

Maura looked at her hands, now settled in her lap, and then slowly to Jane's fingers wrapped around the arm of the seat. With a quick fluidity Maura raised her right hand and let it settle down on top of Jane's. She held her breath, waiting for Jane to pull away to rebuff her advance like that which was playing out on stage. As Don Jose drew his knife and advanced towards the love who spurned him, Jane let her hand roll to its side, two of Maura's fingers falling into her grasp she continued the slow gesture until they were linked, palm to palm.

* * *

><p>The car rolled to a silent stop outside of Jane's apartment. <em>It didn't mean anything<em>. Jane tried to tell herself again, repeating it over and over ever since the curtain had dropped and the lights had come up and they had stood, hands only falling apart as they exited the aisle.

Jane cleared her throat, "It was…that was wonderful. Thank you."

"Thank you, for indulging me," Maura smiled, keeping her hands curled tightly around the steering wheel lest she reach out for Jane.

"No, I…really enjoyed it. All of it. The whole process leading up to tonight," Jane pursed her lips as she fought the grin, "ok, well, it's late. See you later." She popped out of the car and trotted up the stairs to her building.

"Jane!"

She turned at the top as Maura followed her.

"Your purse," Maura held the clutch out, pausing to look directly into Jane's eyes as they stood for a moment in silence.

Jane gave in to a fit of weakness and embraced Maura in a light hug, but as her friend began to nuzzle in closer she pulled away. "Ok, well, umm, goodnight Maur."

She shut the door to the building behind her and sank into the heavy wood, forehead first, exhaling a sigh of both exasperation and relief. Pulling off her heels she bolted up the stairs and into her apartment.

"Dammit," Jane growled, tossing her shoes in one direction and the small purse in the other as she stomped to the bathroom. Frantically she twisted her hair into a bun and doused her face in cold water, holding it in the pool formed by her cupped hands until she pulled back with a start, gasping for air. Water dripped from the frightened reflection in the mirror. _Do not do this to yourself._

She placed her hand over the face in the glass as she hung her head. _You can't…you can't have her. Even if you want it…even if she thinks she wants it. You can't. Don't._

* * *

><p>"The Snow That Never Drifts" by Emily Dickinson<p>

"C'est toi, C'est moi," Carmen/Don Jose duet, Act IV


	7. SecondGuessing

**CH 7: Second-Guessing**

Time had no respect for students of a craft. It marched mercilessly onward towards a set deadline. It never wavered; pleas for just a little more time went unheeded. Maura knew it was silly to even be thinking about it, but in just over a week she'd have her tryout with the coach of Jane's team and suddenly all of her practice, all of her hard work seemed insignificant. _If only there was just a little more time._ An extra day…or two, an extra week to perfect drills and run new ones, more time to learn even just one more play. The whole process conjured up memories of dance recitals as a child. The pursuit of perfection was never ending and almost impossible to satisfy.

"_I'm not ready", she whispered, fidgeting nervously with the tulle on her costume. She ran a hand over her head for the thousandth time and checked to see if her bun was securely fastened. "I'm not ready." Louder this time, looking frantically at Madame Bouchard for some reprieve. Her mother had flown in from the U.S. and was in the audience for the recital. Suddenly, the months of practice seemed inadequate._

"_Ne soyez pas stupide." Mademoiselle Bouchard clapped her hands, her steely demeanor never faltering as she waved in the direction of the stage. She wasn't one to mince words or hold hands through bouts of adolescent insecurity. "Dansez!"_

_She could barely even remember having danced when she pranced off the stage. The sweat felt clammy in the middle of her back and on her chest. For a moment she tried to recall if she had even breathed during the number, which was a silly question she chastised herself for pondering. Of course she had breathed, it would have been a biological impossibility to last through the entire routine deprived of oxygen. The other dancers congregated around her with pats of congratulations, hugs and kisses on both cheeks. Perhaps it had gone well after all._

_She searched the crowd in the recital hall's lobby for her mother. The feeling of running towards her was fresh, as if it had only happened yesterday, her heart a flutter with anticipation of words of praise and reward._

"_Darling," air kisses to each cheek were a formality and carried less feeling than those from her peers backstage. "The dance was lovely," she had paused, a nonverbal qualifier. "You must have Madame Bouchard work with you on your hands, they were a bit masculine and lacked fluidity. I think your form in the grand jete could stand better execution as well."_

_It wasn't perfect._

"Are you sure I'm be ready?" Maura stood, wringing her hands together.

Jane retrieved her keys from the counter, "For what? To go to the bar?"

Maura sighed and pursed her lips, "For the hockey tryout."

"Come on," Jane motioned to wave her out the door. "You'll be fine. Don't start doing that thing you do…that over-thinking thing. You're certainly better than a good handful of people already in the league…"

Maura didn't budge and the look of concern on her face was pained. "But, am I good enough to be on your team?"

Until that moment she was bordering on exasperated. But the sincere look of fear and inadequacy on Maura's face caused her to rein it in. She was on the verge of doing what had become unfortunately commonplace over the past months – being dismissive.

"Hey," Jane walked towards her and stilled her hands. "If you had half the confidence in yourself that I have in you…that you're going to do awesome, we wouldn't even be having this conversation right now."

Maura's lip quivered as a smile finally cracked through the mask of worry.

Jane chuckled, "That's better. I promise you, I wouldn't even let you try out if I didn't think you had a chance. And we've still got a whole week to put the final touches on anything we need to. So, how about for tonight, we just hit the bar, have a few drinks and I'll introduce you to some of the ladies on the team. Ok?"

"Ok," Maura let out a breathy laugh laden with relief as she looked into Jane's eyes, "sounds good."

* * *

><p>The Black and Gold was a Bruins bar: decked from stem to stern in all things hockey. It was off the beaten path and far away from any trendy nook in the city that would open it to the likes of a tourist. No, it was the kind of bar you didn't know about unless you knew someone that knew about it, who only knew about it because they knew someone. Bruins players had been known to stop by on occasion and have a rowdy round with the patrons. Their photos and signed memorabilia adorned the walls along with generic hockey gear from every imaginable era.<p>

"Marcie, Clare, this is Maura," Jane made the introductions as they took a seat on seemingly rickety stools that had weathered many years if not decades of enthused gyrations during a game. The bartender passed them a couple of beers without even taking an order.

"It's, uh, sort of mostly beer unless you count liquor that can be shot or mixed with coke," Jane smiled apologetically as she pushed the frothy pint towards Maura.

"Beer is fine. In fact, I'm developing a taste for it," she dutifully took a long sip off the lager.

Maura liked them, Marcie and Clare. Marcie was an EMT and Clare worked at a bank. Jane seemed at ease with them in a way that was new and intriguing to Maura. It occurred to her she'd never really seen Jane socialize with other female friends, aside from herself of course. Their conversation was jovial and relaxed and completely lacking in any pretension or posturing as often went on with male friends and colleagues from the force. With this new data Maura could observe that even when it came to Frost and Korsak it was a slightly different Jane than what she was seeing now.

Conversation naturally turned to hockey and Maura was able to regale her new acquaintances with all of the research she had done. Jane watched, laughing occasionally into her beer as Marcie and Clare tried to stump Maura with some bit of trivia. For once talking google was useful, she mused, and it was kind of like show and tell. She interjected a few times, impromptu round robin trivia until Marcie or Clare would get hung up on some completely obscure stat that even Jane didn't know and she would smirk with satisfaction as Maura rattled off the answer and wait while her friends grabbed their phones, eager to try and prove the Medical Examiner wrong. They never did.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see Beth sitting in a booth with some friends across the bar. Jane tried not to look but it was hard. On more than one sneak peek Beth caught her looking and gave her a wink or a smile. She should have known Beth would be here. Beth was always at the Black and Gold on a Friday night.

Jane drained the last of her second beer and excused herself to the restroom. She let the cold water run over her hands and watched as it circled and swirled down the drain. Cold. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and it reminded her of that night the last weekend after the opera. The chill of the night air and the smell of Maura's perfume as they hugged on the stoop of her apartment building came flooding back. Soft, like Maura's cheek as it brushed her own. Understated, yet noticeably there, there had only been the cold and the sultry, earthy scent of amber. She fought back the same feeling of panic she had felt then when she'd run upstairs and tried to wash it all away with handfuls of icy water to her face.

She had spent the week trying to convince herself that she was imagining it all; that she was reading things into Maura's mannerisms that weren't there. Maura had always been a little different when it came to interpersonal relations. That's all it was.

"Thought maybe you fell in, I was considering mounting a rescue expedition," Beth greeted her as she exited the restroom.

Jane stopped, her eyes roaming down and then back up the provocative brunette in front of her before glancing around at the dimly lit and otherwise empty hallway nestled conveniently off the most secluded back corner of the bar.

"Beth…" Jane said as a formality as she began to walk by.

Two hands shot out and grabbed her by the lapels of her jacket, fingers tightening around the leather and pulling Jane in nearly flush against her body. Beth relaxed against the wall, glancing slyly from side to side where Jane's hands rested on either side of her head, drumming impatiently on the dingy black plaster.

Thumbs stroked back and forth across the leather, occasionally stealing a swipe over the exposed skin around Jane's collarbone. Beth smiled with each moment of contact, the way Jane's eyes fluttered as they fought to maintain some semblance of unaffectedness. What she couldn't hide was the heated flush that set in everywhere Beth's fingertips touched as she grew more bold, releasing her hold on the jacket's collar and sliding her hands inside to tease Jane further.

A low growl festered in the hollow of Jane's throat, "Beth…I told you…" _God, those green eyes._ She couldn't stop staring into them.

"Mmmhmm, someone else. How's that going?" Beth watched as Jane squirmed, "That well?"

"That particular pursuit, didn't work out so…" she couldn't finish the sentence.

As the youngest of six children, Beth Warner had learned from an early age that sometimes you had to make things happen. That meant, more often than not, figuring out what you wanted and taking it. She brusquely pulled Jane into a kiss.

_You should stop this._ That was the first thing that ran through Jane's mind. She knew she should. But, that very move was what was so appealing about Beth: her self-assurance and her willingness to take a risk. It was exhilarating. Kissing Beth was good. Sex with Beth was great; it was satisfying. In the back of her mind Jane knew she'd made it perfectly clear that she didn't want anything more from the woman whose tongue was presently sending fiery jolts through her body. Still, in a way it felt like leading her on, like using her.

Jane broke the kiss and pulled away, sighing in frustration. The one she wanted she couldn't have and the woman in front of her that wanted her she didn't want in return. _Big fucking joke's on me_…Her thought was interrupted as she glanced to her left to see Maura standing in the hallway.

"I..I'm sorry…" Maura stammered, a look of shock plastered across her face, "You…you were gone so long…I…" she spun on her heels and retreated.

"Shit!" Jane exclaimed, with a guttural snarl, slamming the palm of her hand into the wall before running it nervously through her hair. She turned to Beth, "She shouldn't have seen that…dammit!"

"She knows your bi? Right?" The question was weighted with a serious note of confusion. Jane shook her head no. "Shit, Jane…I'm sorry. You know I would never compromise you in front of your friends…"

Jane held up her hand, "Just…let it be."

She squared her shoulders, running her thumb around the edge of her mouth as she secured her resolve. _Cat's outta the bag now_. Jane strode back to the bar, slinging her leg around the stool and sitting as she grabbed her pint and downed the last third of it in one gulp. Maura watched, knowing the particular situation called for Jane to dictate the next move.

"Let's go," Jane said matter of factly as she tossed some cash on the bar.

Maura's heart pounded in her chest, excited with conflicting emotions that were difficult to process. She had seen Jane making out with a woman; this meant Jane was attracted to women. Yet, as socially inept as she could be at times Maura did understood that some actions were private and provoked embarrassment when put on display, particularly for someone as guarded as Jane. She had unintentionally stumbled upon one such intimate moment, and as much hope as it gave her in relation to her own pursuits it carried the simultaneous and painful twinge of violation.

_Demonstrate it's nothing to be embarrassed of._ "Jane, it's ok, we can stay if you'd…."

"I want to go. Now. Stay if you want, I'll catch a cab." She was already off the bar stool and plowing towards the door as Maura collected her coat and purse to follow.

* * *

><p>Elbow propped against the window, face buried solemnly in her hand, Jane looked tortured. Maura glanced at her periodically in the silence of the drive. If there was one thing Maura had learned about Jane Rizzoli it was that as friends, Jane was generally forthcoming about important details of her life, about emotional struggles, but it had to be on her terms. Violation. She mulled the word over and over in her mind. That's what it felt like she had done, taken away the possibility for Jane to feel comfortable to make that revelation to her of her own accord, without duress.<p>

"Jane. I'm sorry I walked in on you and Beth. You were gone so long I was worried that maybe you weren't feeling well…"

_You damn well should be sorry_. That's what Jane from a few months ago would have said, lashing out in anger if she even said anything at all and didn't just jump out of the car, still moving as it pulled in front of her apartment. She'd resolved not to be that Jane anymore, not to use Maura as her personal scapegoat.

"It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong," Jane sighed, looking up at her building as the car stopped.

"Ok," Maura kept her hands on the steering wheel, she waited for Jane to leap out and disappear much as she had done that night after the opera when what seemed like a romantic awakening was simmering between them. "Well, I really enjoyed you introducing me to Marcie and Clare…goodnight." Her voice carried a hint of trepidation, the last word sliding out into some grey area between farewell and question.

Jane snorted under her breath, finally looking over at her friend, "Aren't you going to come up?"

"If you want me to…"

Jane nodded, "We should talk don't you think?"

Maura bit down momentarily on her lip, "I don't want you to feel compelled to tell or explain anything to me you're not comfortable with. I…I feel like I've already violated your privacy…"

"When have you ever forced me to do anything I didn't want to do?"

Maura cocked her head and thought, "Well…yoga, that double date with Brock and Jorge, the marathon…"

Jane chuckled, "You know…I mostly just complain about stuff like yoga or the marathon to give you a hard time," her voice dropped and softened, "I wouldn't do those things with you if I really didn't want to."

* * *

><p>"Beer?" Jane pulled her head out of the fridge just enough to look over the door at Maura who nodded. She waved her hand and motioned for Maura to follow her to the bedroom. Jane set her beer down on the bedside table and began to root through her dresser. "Long-sleeve or short-sleeve? Boxers or pajama pants?"<p>

Maura sat her beer on the opposite table, "Long-sleeve and pajama pants."

Jane tossed the clothes to her as she began disrobing, mindful to hang everything up to avoid being chastised. "So, Beth and I are more than acquaintances…" she began to speak from the behind the closet door.

"So I gathered," Maura offered somewhat solemnly, fearful of what further explanation would bring. She changed quickly and folded her evening clothes neatly before placing them in a chair.

"It's not…like that. It's…we're not in a relationship. We never were. It was just sex. I mean, you're always telling me, sex and immune system and all that crap, right?" Jane pulled the covers back on the bed and slid under them, pausing for Maura to get situated before she continued.

"There's nothing wrong with that," Maura watched as Jane reached for her beer so she did the same. "Is she…the first woman…"

Jane snorted inadvertently into the bottle, reaching quickly to catch the dribble on her chin. Her eyes darted towards Maura and then away. "Uh, no. I guess…I guess I consider myself bisexual. But, I've never been in love with any of the women I've been with. Hell, I've never been in love with any of the men, not really. So, I don't talk about the women because I always figured it wasn't worth the trouble of coming out unless there was someone worth coming out for."

Maura swirled the half drunk beer, listening to the liquid splash against the glass before setting the bottle aside, "Your family doesn't know?"

"God no! Jane turned to face her with a look of horror. A silence settled between them and Jane pulled nervously at the label corner on her beer. "I don't know what they'd say. It's kind of terrifying to even think about."

"Your family loves you."

Jane nodded, "I know. And lots of other people's families loved them until they found out their kid was gay…or bi…or whatever." She took the last sip of the brown ale, now slightly warm from the heat given off by her hands which had settled into a vice grip around the bottle. "We're still friends, right?"

This was a new vulnerability. Her voice sounded honestly concerned as she asked it. Maura couldn't stop her mouth from hanging somewhat agape, the sincerity behind what she considered an absolutely ridiculous question was arresting. She turned to face Jane and reached for her hand, enclosing it with both of her own. They sat there as voice-less minutes ticked by; Maura didn't even realize she was crying until a solitary tear dripped, landing on the top of her hand.

She sniffled; wiping the errant drops away, "You're the best friend I've ever had. I can't imagine anything that would change that."

"Hey, don't…" Jane bit her lip and huffed before pulling Maura into an embrace, "…don't cry. You cry and it makes me all…not badass."

Maura laughed, her breath, though it was warm, giving Jane a chill. "You don't have to be a badass all the time. Not around me. It's kind of nice actually, when you're not."

The smile crept up on her and all of a sudden Jane was positive she was most likely grinning like a kid at the circus. In a way this didn't help. It didn't help the feelings she had for Maura that she had tried for so long to put down. Every touch of her hand, every hug exacerbated the longing. But tonight, she didn't care if she was giving into it. She needed it, and not for anything more than the physical assurance of their friendship the touch provided. She could second-guess moments like this another night.

"Thank you," Jane whispered into Maura's ear. "I…for…" she smiled again, with each exhalation of breath her body relaxed further into Maura, "Just, thank you."


	8. E Lucevan Le Stelle

**Author's Note: **I just want to apologize for the length of time between updates right now. Work schedule being what it is I've only got time for an update about once a week or so. But, I want to assure all of you faithful readers this whole fic is plotted in my notes and I always finish what I start. So just hang with me!

**CH 8: E Lucevan Le Stelle**, *_When the Stars Were Brightly Shining_

They had all lied. The women she had dated, the women online she talked to, the blogs and the articles – all lies. They all said once you started coming out to friends and family you felt better. She didn't feel better. Jane stared blankly at the files in front of her, endless strings of words bleeding across the paper into a black, inky mess. _What fucking case is this even?_ The anxiety was worse than ever before and it had grown with each passing day that week. Here she was, sitting at her desk, pretending to do paperwork and all that played through her head was Maura seeing her with Beth. _Beth and I…we're more than acquaintances_. Maura, holding her hand. _You're the best friend I've ever had._ Maura, warm and soothing in her arms.

Jane didn't regret Maura finding out. She looked around the bullpen; Frost pounded away on his keyboard, Korsak had been on the phone involved in a heated debate for what seemed like an eternity with a Prosecutor, everyone was in engaged in some activity. Anxiety. It was becoming clearer now. Telling Maura hadn't sparked the barrage of sleepless nights and nervous days for _**fear**_ of anyone else finding out but because she _**wanted**_ them to know but didn't know how to make the words come. It wasn't easy. It was torturous. She'd had a taste of honesty and freedom and now she wanted more and yet it seemed so far out of reach.

"Frost, I'm gonna run down to the café, get a cup of coffee, want anything?" Jane stood and threw her blazer on.

"Yeah, that'd be great. These surveillance videos are really wearing me down," he rubbed his eyes and sighed, looking up at Jane briefly. His partner seemed particularly guarded this week. "Jane…are you…" he caught himself. It was one of those tricky areas. They were friends, at least he felt like over time they had moved into the friends territory. The affairs of women were complicated, the affairs of one Jane Rizzoli particularly so. "Are you…going to need some money?" Frost reached for his wallet.

She smiled, "Nah, I got it."

* * *

><p>Jane rolled her eyes as she saw Stanley behind the counter. She'd forgotten it was her mother's off day. He rang up her order with his usual aloof and neurotic brand of acerbic sarcasm. Multiple eyerolls later Jane realized she was becoming much less adept at hiding her contempt for the weasley barista-wannabe. She doctored her coffee, lingering at the counter until Stanley stepped into the back so that she could push the donuts together until they were touching.<p>

"Saw that," Frankie whispered in her ear from behind.

Jane jumped, spinning around before giving her brother a playful punch on the arm, "I can't help myself," she lowered her voice as she spoke, glancing over her shoulder, "That guy is so weird."

They grabbed one of the tables in the corner of the café and let a deep silence settle between them. Jane grimaced as she sipped the stale and bitter beverage that was only lukewarm to boot. _Really?_ There was no convincing her that Stanley's secret ploy was to poison them slowly. He was just that side of off to be the character in the horror movie that flies under the radar until revealing themselves as the criminal mastermind in the end. Jane chuckled to herself as she pondered the possibility.

"You can always tell when it's Ma's day off," she mused.

"What's up with you, Janie? This week you've been…I don't know. This past month or so it's been like having the old Jane back but…" Frankie paused, he usually treated Jane with a little more tact; a little more subtlety in order to let her come out with things and think it was her idea. Ever since Maura's hockey experiment started his sister had seemed to find her way out of the festering anger and depression she had been mired in since the shooting. He knew it was selfish, but he wanted to keep that Jane around and if that meant a more direct approach, then so be it.

Jane stared into the murky black pool of java and thought about drowning in it, slipping away unseen and away from everything and everyone, "Just…some stuff," she waved her hand dismissively.

"Bullshit. Does this have something to do with Maura?" Direct and to the point. Frankie held his ground.

"I don't know what you're talking about…" she tried to deflect.

Frankie shook his head with amusement, "I'm trying to figure out if you're really that oblivious or if you won't admit that you're attracted to her for some other reason."

Jane's eyes flashed up to meet her brother's, her mouth hanging open and a flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck.

He smirked, _bullseye_, "I mean, Maura's the world's worst liar and she's equally bad at being subtle too…this whole hockey business? Come on Jane! You have to know what the motivation behind that is? And she's got you listening to and going to the opera. And you've been really good since all that started; even Ma said it's like having our old Jane back. Then this week rolls along…did something happen…with Maura? I know you never ask for help, but you can talk to me, Jane."

"How long have you known?" Jane mumbled tentatively, her eyes glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. She'd have the talk with Frankie about appropriate time and place later, despite his lack of consideration as to their very public location in the middle of the café she found she wasn't really angry. In fact, it gave her some relief, much as Maura finding out had.

Now he shifted uncomfortably, "You know…some of the women in your hockey league, they're not real discreet. I had heard rumors about you and Beth Warner."

Jane nodded, "They're not rumors."

"But," Frankie continued, "I also might have seen you with Corinne Powell in the backseat of her dad's Monte Carlo after a football game in high school." He snickered as Jane buried her face her in her hands.

"I'm bi," Jane blurted it out in a purifying exhale.

Frankie took a sip of his coffee as nonchalantly as if the reveal was no more than Jane admitting she put her pants on one leg at a time. "Yeah, I figured. And this week? The cause of your…moodiness?"

"Maura found out last weekend. When I took her to the Black and Gold, Beth was there and kissed me in the hallway. Maura saw it. So we left and I came out to her…" Jane paused.

"And?"

She downed another hopefully energizing swig of the practically rancid coffee, "And it went fine. She said it didn't change anything about our friendship. I guess this week I've just been edgy because it felt so good for someone close to me to finally know but it caused all this panic about wanting to be out with it to everyone but I don't feel like I can be. It's weird too because it's not like I even need to be. I'm not even seeing anyone; it just feels like I've been hiding all this time."

Frankie nodded, "Jane, I don't know what this feels like for you…but, I do know that you're my sister and there is nothing that you could do that would make me not love you anymore. Nothing. And I'll never breathe a word of this to anyone, but I wish you had more faith that Tommy, Ma, Pop, your friends…I know they'd all feel the same way."

Jane tried to choke back the sniffle as she cleared her throat, "It's scary, Frankie."

If he didn't love being a cop so much, Frankie thought he could have been happy as a therapist. Dr. Gordon's help had dispelled all the working-class pull yourself up by your bootstraps, self-help mumbo-jumbo his father had drilled into him all his life. As he had watched Jane struggle all these months he couldn't help but wish she had given more time with Dr. Gordon a shot. He might not be a trained psychologist, but Frankie knew his sister…probably better than anyone.

"What exactly is scary?" Frankie pressed, "That point one-percent seed of doubt buried somewhere in the back of your mind that your family won't love you anymore, or…admitting to yourself, to us and to her that you're attracted to Maura. That you're scared she won't feel the same way, even though I think her feeling the same way is about the safest bet I've ever seen in my lie."

Jane's jaw clenched as she pursed her lips, "I'm not in love with Maura." It was almost a growl as she said it, as if imparting some vehemence to the tone could make him believe her. As if it could make her believe herself.

Frankie nodded, a knowing glint in his eye as Jane secured the lid on her cup and got up to leave, "I didn't say you were…in _**love**_…with Maura." He made a point to accent the word, watching as Jane visibly bristled with discomfort.

Jane froze, her fingers constricting around the cup, she glanced at Frankie, words playing a dangerous game in her mind and just behind her lips. She pushed them down. "I need to get back to work."

* * *

><p>The ice. Stark. Jane thought about Maura's words from their outdoor practice a couple of weeks ago: winter as metaphor, as an opportunity for truth. She closed her eyes and let the cold, hard slab under her seep into her bones. If only it were just as easy as telling the truth. Speaking words was one thing; grappling with emotions in the aftermath of words was entirely different.<p>

"What are you doing?" Maura asked as she skated up next to Jane and sat down, leaning against the wall behind the net.

"We used to do this as kids. After a long practice when we were all sweaty and tired…lay down on the ice," Jane opened one eye and looked up at Maura with a one-sided grin. "And I was thinking about the poem you recited that morning we practiced outside."

Maura cocked her head, "Oh?"

"_Were every storm so spice, the value could not be. We buy with contrast, pang is good. As near as memory._ I looked it up." Jane sat up and scooted back against the rink wall next to Maura. "I think Dickinson felt like we have to suffer sometimes to really be able to appreciate the good times. I think that's true, but not because that's just the way things are. More because we don't take the time to appreciate the good things when we're happy; we wait for that suffering to remind us of what joy feels like. And sometimes we lose the good things, and we'll never get them back."

Maura smiled as she let the cleansing chill seep just a little further in as Jane's words lolled around in her mind. _You never cease to amaze me, Jane._

"Maura, I'm sorry. For how I treated you after I was shot, for how I treated you a lot of times before I was shot too but mostly for how I acted afterwards. I took our friendship for granted. And I vented a lot of my anger and frustration…and my insecurity on you…I think because somehow deep down I knew you'd take it and that you wouldn't give up on me." Jane paused, staring at the scars on her palms. Too many times she had let the bad things in life define her relationships. "I don't want to be that friend. I'm glad you wanted to do this, play hockey. And I'm glad we listen to music together now and talk about it and that we went to the opera. I don't want our friendship defined by work and…homicidal maniacs."

Maura scooted closer to Jane and held her hand out, smiling as tan, slender fingers immediately accepted the offering. Silence was broken by the gleeful giggles of adolescent figure skaters as they entered the rink for morning practice. Maura closed her eyes and let her head fall to Jane's shoulder, taking in the laughter and chatter accompanied by steel sliding across ice. Coaches called out turns and jumps – camel spin, lutz and by the cheers of congratulations and claps an older girl landed her first double axel. With a hum of pleasure Maura considered she'd be perfectly content to just sit there for hours.

Extricating her hand from Maura's grasp, Jane tugged on the well worn, if not nearly ragged around the edges jersey she was wearing. "Know what this is from?" Maura shook her head. "Roxbury didn't have a hockey team, well, not a sanctioned team. Community colleges can't really support a lot of sports, mostly the big sports kids might get recruited to a higher division in…Basketball, Baseball, Track, you know. But we had a club team and we networked with other club teams in New England and pulled off full season play. This was my jersey. The team voted me MVP both years."

"Is there any sport you're not good at?" Maura joked, running the worn hem of the black jersey with orange accents between her fingers.

Jane snorted, "Yeah. My P.E. teacher in high school was also the track coach. He saw tall, long legs and envisioned the Boston-Italian version of Jackie Joyner-Kersee. You know what's worse than running? Running while trying to jump over shit. Let's just say my hurdling days were limited." They both chuckled. Jane stripped the jersey over her head and folded it, handing it to Maura. "I want you to have this…"

"Jane…" Maura protested.

"No, I want you to have it and I want you to wear it for your tryout," she pushed the intended good luck charm into Maura's hands and stood. "We better get to work before you have to stay late and miss your mother's new installation tonight."

Squeezing the jersey to her chest Maura skated off the ice next to Jane, "Are you sure you don't want to come? I'm positive I could get you added to the guest list."

"Nah, if you've seen one hanging chandelier of water bottles, you've seen them all," Jane turned quickly with a mischievous smile, "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I'm sure it will be great and you'll have a wonderful time. You should spend some quality time with your mother, it seems like she's trying. Besides, I could use a night in to rest before our last practice tomorrow. Make sure I'm on point to kick your butt in the morning."

Maura gave her a playful push, "We'll see about that."

* * *

><p>Enough could not be said for the simple pleasure of a relaxed evening spent home alone on the sofa, clad in the thinnest not meant for other human eyes tank top and softest, most broken in pair of sweat pants. Joe Friday grumbled as Jane shifted in order to remove her socks and toss them to the floor. She eyed the muted tv to check the hockey score as the first period ticked to an end, the sound of her most recent foray into the opera world filling the silence of her apartment rather than the voices of excited announcers and the bullhorn hockey buzzer.<p>

Solemn notes of longing undulated through the air. Jane closed her eyes as the stunning tenor reached out, notes of sorrow lamenting an impending death and separation from love.

_E lucevan le stelle ... _

_e olezzava la terra _

_stridea l'uscio dell'orto ... _

_e un passo sfiorava la rena ..._

_Entrava ella fragrante,_

_mi cadea fra le braccia._

_O! dolci baci, o languide carezze,_

_mentr'io fremente le belle forme disciogliea dai veli! _

_Svanì per sempre il sogno mio d'amore. _

_L'ora è fuggita, e muoio disperato!_

_E muoio disperato! _

_E non ho amato mai tanto la vita, _

_tanto la vita!_

_(When the stars were brightly shining ... _

_And faint perfumes the air pervaded, _

_Creaked the gate of the garden ... _

_And footstep its precincts invaded ..._

_'Twas hers, the fragant creature. _

_In her soft arms she clasped me.._

_With sweetest kisses, tenderest caresses, _

_A thing of beauty, of matchless symmetry in form and feature! _

_My dream of love is now disspelled forever. _

_I lived uncaring and now I die despairing! _

_Alas I die despairing! _

_And never was life so dear to me, no never, _

_So dear, no never!)_

Lost in the music Jane barely heard the initial light rap at the door. Only when the knocking grew loud enough to rouse Joe Friday to action did she look over the back of the sofa towards the door.

"What the…" Jane mumbled as she glared through her peephole at Beth standing in the hallway. She opened the door, "Beth. What are you…"

"You haven't returned any of my calls," Beth held aloft a bottle of fine scotch as she walked past Jane and into her apartment, "a peace offering."

Jane shook her head as she laughed, "Anyone ever tell you that you drink like a 75 year old man?"

"Yeah…you," she winked. "However, I don't recall you complaining when you were knocking back my $200 a bottle Bowmore 25 year single malt. This is not Bowmore but it's still a pretty smooth drink. Glenmoragnie Quinta Ruben port wood finish. It has some fruity notes to it." Beth handed Jane the bottle.

They took a seat on the sofa, scotch in hand. Jane could feel Beth's eyes on her and self-consciously crossed her arms as she recalled the well-worn and nearly see-through tank top.

"You're beautiful, you shouldn't try to hide it all the time," Beth offered, taking a sip of scotch and then setting the glass on the table. "I wanted to apologize again. I hope that everything is ok between you and Maura…"

Jane sighed and leaned back, "Yeah, everything's fine. We talked; it didn't change anything between us. No harm, no foul…just…no more surprise tonsil hockey in the hallway of the Black and Gold, ok?"

Beth chuckled, "Got it. No more surprises. What about not surprises, what if I want to kiss you right now?"

"We talked about this," Jane glanced at Beth and then away.

"Yeah, you don't want a relationship with me." Beth scooted closer and smiled when Jane didn't slink away. "Sucks for me. You're gorgeous, smart…good at hockey – the ice kind and the tonsil kind," they both laughed. "I enjoy your company."

Beth's hand slowly maneuvered its way to Jane's stomach, sliding under the thin fabric of her tank to ghost across trembling skin. She smiled as Jane's nipples hardened noticeably at her touch.

_It's a bad idea Rizzoli_. "It's never going to be more than this. I don't want…" Jane's protest was weak even to her own ears as Beth straddled her lap, lifting the tank over her head and tossing it to the floor behind her.

"I may not like it, but I can accept that," Beth's hands cupped Jane's breasts and massaged them, her thumbs flicking over the pert nipples that Jane arched into her touch. "Tell me you don't want _**this**_, right now. Tell me you don't want me inside you making you scream as you come."

_Fuck it._ Jane pulled Beth forward into a kiss raging with weeks of unsatisfied desire and days of particularly acute anxiety and frustration. She pulled Beth's shirt off and laved the nipple thrust in front of her with her tongue, kissing and sucking the rosy nub before releasing it and staring up into a pair of brown eyes dilated with arousal.

* * *

><p><em>Stupid. I should have been paying attention.<em> Maura fought the tears but found she couldn't stem the tide as she rolled from her knees on the sidewalk into a sitting position. The frigid damp from the concrete leached through her dress and worked the chill deeper into her bones. She sobbed, clutching her phone to her chest, all that was left, her purse now in some stranger's hands no doubt blocks away if not further.

She finally managed to calm herself enough to dial 911. The wait seemed interminable but soon the distant blare of sirens cut through the lonely night and red and blue illuminated the otherwise darkened block.

"Maura!" a familiar voice rang out.

"Frankie?" Maura struggled to her feet, fighting the sting of the bloodied contusions on her knees. The sight of him stripping off his coat and preparing it to drape around her prompted another rush of tears. She slumped forward into his offered arms. "I was mugged."

He led her to his car and eased her down into the passenger side seat, took a quick description of all Maura could remember – white guy, dark pants, a grey hooded sweatshirt – and directed the other responding unit to start sweeping the neighborhood.

Maura stared at her phone, hands white-knuckled from their death grip on the device. She took it off screen saver and sniffled as the interrupted and unsent text message popped into view. _To: Jane. Just leaving the gallery. Mother's newest work is positively inspiring. See you in the…_

"Hmm?" Maura shook her head; only just realizing Frankie had been calling her name.

"It's ok, Maura, you're gonna be alright. Do you want me to take you to the hospital? Get your knees looked at?" Frankie reached for his jacket and pulled it in tighter around Maura's shoulders.

"No, it's not that bad." She looked at her phone again and held it out to him, "Would you call…" Maura paused, scrunching her nose and pursing her lips as more tears trickled out in warm and embarrassing streams. As she looked in Frankie's eyes it was almost as if he knew. Not just what she was about to ask, but that there was something more behind it.

He took the phone, "Yeah, I'll call Jane for you."

* * *

><p>Aria: <em>"E lucevan le stelle," aka "When the stars were brightly shining."<em> Cavaradossi's aria from Puccini's Tosca.


	9. Fairytale

**CH 9: Fairytale**

There was something about being with a woman. Smooth skin and soft curves and that intuitiveness: where to touch, how to touch, when to touch. In a way that she couldn't explain if someone were to ask, Jane felt more feminine when she was with a woman than a man. Beth's breasts rubbed against her own as the woman in her lap kissed and sucked at her neck. Men were simple. That's what it boiled down to. Sex with a woman was so deceptively complex. Each time, each partner put her in touch with her own femininity in a way that no man ever had. Jane still liked sex with men, there was something about that too…the one-sidedness of it at times. She'd had great sex with some men. But, if she put her mind to it, she had better sex with most women. So, when it came to times like this in her life, times when she would break down and give in to casual sex with no strings attached and completely separate from any existing or likely relationship: she'd rather it be like this, with a woman: complete and in touch with all parts of her.

Jane's hands kneaded the dips and rises of Beth's back, felt the muscles constrict and roll under her grasp and she knew that under her fingertips was that tattoo. She dug her fingers in where that koi fish would be, scratched, and slid her hand further under the waistband of Beth's jeans. They were tight, too tight.

"What'd you wear these for?" Jane started to laugh until Beth's lips covered her own, rough and bruising. She let her hands finish the sentence, moving to the button of the jeans and wrestling with it against the straining fabric that pulled and tightened as Beth rolled in her lap.

"I was under the impression we weren't doing this anymore," Beth pulled back, mischievous glint in her eyes, her pale skin hot to the touch and kissed with crimson.

"Smart ass," Jane smirked as the barely audible yet telltale sound of a zipper being undone reached her ears.

"I could take them off…" Beth smiled as she again cupped Jane's breasts, squeezing them gruffly and reveling as the flesh in her hands arched into the touch, begging for more.

Jane clucked her tongue as she shook her head, hand sliding past parted denim and teasingly stroking the soft skin just under the no doubt specifically selected and sexy lingerie, "After you went to all that trouble to pour yourself into them?"

Another enjoyable aspect of sex with women: the slow build, the teasing and the shared ache and it just made the final release that much better. If Beth were a man he would have been past the point of no return well before now; Jane loved having a playground for her devious side. It was fun making her want it. She crawled her fingers lower, unable to stem the artful smirk that played across her lips. Beth's breath hitched in anticipation.

The phone rang, Habanera, Jane's newly selected tune for Maura blaring over Puccini still playing from the speaker system. The vibration against the hard wood of the end table added it's own dissonant quality and snapped her completely from the moment.

"Fuck…"

"Leave it…" Beth curled her fingers into Jane's jaw and turned her head, attempting to claim her lips amidst the competing tunes.

_Maura_. First her eyes turned towards the jarring tone, every time it played her palm burning with the sensation of Maura's hand closing over her own at the opera. Her lips rebelled next, stiffening against the supple assault, drawing together and eventually pulling towards the phone's vibration and away from the tangible sensuality they were engaged with.

"Need to…" Jane husked as her hand stilled and slightly withdrew from its previous trajectory as her right hand disengaged from Beth's hip and strained for the phone, "…probably nothing, will only take a minute."

Jane cleared her throat before answering, _try not to sound like you're on the sofa with a half-naked woman in your lap_, "Hey Maura…"

Her brow furrowed and her face tensed, the hand still partially down Beth's pants jerked out and wrapped around her waist to swing her aside as she stood. Jane began stripping her sweatpants off as she walked, hopping on one foot the last of the way to the bedroom. "Is she ok? Look Frankie, take her home, I'm going to throw some clothes on and I'll meet you there. Don't you leave her until I get there, do you hear me? If your LT gives you any shit, he can take it up with me."

_Dammit_. Jane swore under her breath. _I should have gone with her_. It was like the clothes couldn't be put on fast enough; Jane stumbled into the dresser as she wrestled into her jeans. _Shit_. Finally dressed she jogged back to the living room, "Look Beth, I'm sorr…" Jane glanced quickly around the empty living room, the opened bottle of scotch on the table and two half-drunk tumblers on the side tables. Joe Friday looked up and cocked her head from where she had ensconced herself on the now unoccupied sofa.

* * *

><p>Jane could see Frankie standing in the front window of Maura's house as she pulled up. She was practically falling out of the car before it had come to a proper stop. He stepped out to meet her, "Hey, calm down."<p>

"Don't tell me to call down! My best friend was just mugged!" Jane snapped. _There you go_. "Dammit, I'm sorry Frankie. That's just…I wasn't expecting a call like that tonight."

He nodded. "She's a little scraped up. Nothing was in her purse but some cash, her I.D. and her keys; we had the car towed. Ma fixed her some tea, but she refused to change or wash up until you got here. She's just shaken up."

"Thanks Frankie," Jane patted her brother on the arm, "You call Tommy and tell him to get his buddies he's doing the odd jobs with and come replace Maura's locks first thing in the morning, ok?"

Maura looked up as Jane walked in, standing immediately and pulling out from under Angela's watchful arm, "Jane…" She sniffled as Jane's arms folded around her, pulling her in tightly. "I'm sorry…I shouldn't have walked to my car alone…"

"Hey, hey…" Jane soothed, tightening her embrace around the still slightly shaking body of her friend, "…this is not your fault."

Maura nodded into Jane's neck, "Angela, thank you for the tea. I'll be ok now that Jane's here."

With a slight smile Jane mouthed _thanks, Ma_ as her mother nodded with understanding and made her way back to the guesthouse. "Ok, let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

><p>Maura sat on the edge of the tub and tested the running water's temperature with her hand before moving her feet under the stream. The gentleness of Jane's touch was surprising as she wiped the dried blood and grit from the sidewalk away. Some of her hair tumbled forward and Maura caught it, holding the brown waves for a second before slowly tucking it back. Intentionally she let her finger trace lightly the rim of Jane's ear as she did so, smiling at the muted giggle her friend couldn't contain.<p>

"That tickled," Jane looked up briefly, flashing a grin and then back at Maura's knees, painfully aware of the burning flush that must have been tinting her ear an obvious crimson. She toweled Maura's legs off, dabbing tentatively around the scrapes. "Ok, turn around. It will be easier to put the bandages on."

_It really doesn't look so bad_, Maura mused as she examined the scrapes. She paid no attention to Jane standing at the sink washing her hands. The water stopped and Jane didn't move. Maura didn't notice for a long minute after the water had stopped running. Jane stood in front of the mirror, reading the poem, the daily affirmation that her friend had affixed to the glass before the hockey lessons and before the opera. The yellow page with its rough edges had softened from the moisture, become nearly one with the mirror itself. Jane ran her finger down the edge as some of the fibers pulled easily away at her touch.

_Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

_The darkness silvers away, the morn doth break,_

_It leaps in the sky: unrisen lustres slake_

_The o'ertaken moon. Awake, O heart, awake!_

_She too that loveth awaketh and hopes for thee:_

_Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee,_

_Already they watch the path thy feet shall take:_

_Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

_And if thou tarry from her, - if this could be, -_

_She cometh herself, O heart, to be loved, to thee;_

_For thee would unashamed herself forsake:_

_Awake, to be loved, my heart, awake, awake!_

_Awake! The land is scattered with light, and see,_

_Uncanopied sleep is flying from field and tree;_

_And blossoming boughs of April in laughter shake:_

_Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_

Finally realizing, Maura stood; clasping her hands together she twisted nervously at her ring. It was time. As much the time as it would probably ever be. With each passing day she wondered why she continued to wait as if some magical moment of perfection would miraculously reveal itself. Fairytale. She might be waiting forever if something out of a storybook was what she was hoping for. Nothing about her life was storybook. Jane wasn't going to whisk her through some fancy ball and that wasn't what she wanted anyway. This was. Reality, her and Jane just being the essence of who they were, no pretention, no need for anything more than the simplicity of being together no matter the reason or circumstance. Some moments were meant to be seized. Jane had taught her that.

Jane turned and their eyes met and words that couldn't be unsaid were tiptoeing on the edge of her tongue. Maura had to remind herself to breathe and with the exhalation a tidal wave of words crested the levee, pouring out and into the pregnant silence between them.

"Jane, I'm attracted to you. I…I don't know when it started, but it's been building and I can't help it. I don't want to help it. I just want to be with you." Tears were flowing with the words. Tears of release but also fear. The look on Jane's face…she was panicking. _Stop there_. But she couldn't stop; the words kept coming…all the wrong words judging from Jane's reaction. "I just want to be with you. I almost lost you…twice; I've never been so terrified of losing someone in my entire life. And I…I…Jane, I think I'm falling in love with you." The last words took Maura herself by surprise as her shaking hand lifted to cover her mouth, physically seal it if that's what it took to stymie the emotional bloodletting.

Jane shook her head as she turned, trying to hide the tears she furiously wiped away. "You're not…you can't be." She spun back around and the feelings inside her, no doubt the look on her face took them both by surprise. Anger. It wasn't fair. Everything she wanted was standing right in front of her and she knew she couldn't have it.

Maura pressed, walking towards her, "I am."

"No," Jane put her hands up to ward Maura off. "No, you're not."

"You can't tell me what I feel, Jane." Maura's face twisted from surprise to hurt.

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose, "Why are you telling me this? What do you want?"

"I…" the words weren't coming as easily now; she hadn't foreseen this reaction. "I want…to know if you feel the same way." Her voice was soft, almost pleading. _Tell me you could fall in love with me too._

"You want me to tell you I'm attracted to you too?" Jane paused as Maura nodded, fresh tears burning their way down red cheeks. "Christ! Of course I'm attracted to you Maura!" She was nearly shouting now. "I mean…" she gestured wildly as if to signal who wouldn't be attracted to the beautiful woman standing in front of her. "But…dammit, Maura! Why did you have to go and say all of this out loud! I can't let myself fall in love with you." The final admission didn't burst out in anger; it came out as a resigned admission of fact.

"Jane, that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard!" Maura breached the invisible barrier Jane had tried to erect and bulled her way into the flustered detective's space.

Jane reached out and grasped Maura sternly by the shoulders and kept her at arm's length, "Not six months ago you risked your job to smuggle medicine out of the country because of a man that was according to you the love of your life. He blows into town and I didn't even exist. I can't let myself fall in love with you Maura, because I know I could…I could so easily. But, I can't be your in the meantime until Ian gets his shit together and realizes what he's missing every time he leaves you. Having part of you isn't good enough for me…and it's not fair to ask me to settle for that."

She could feel Maura pulling back out of her grasp and Jane let her hands fall away. It hurt. Like being shot all over again only worse. The pain was deeper and it couldn't be healed with a surgeon's scalpel or stitches. Jane didn't even care about the tears streaking down her own face, half out of anger and half out of sadness she just let them run. She felt behind her with her hand as she backed away until she located the doorway. Jane paused, _one more chance, tell me I'm wrong_…nothing. She nodded her head resolutely and left.

* * *

><p>They always left. The people she cared about. They always left. Maura held the worn poem in her hands, tears dripping to the paper and softening it further until it easily pulled apart, ripping words and rendering its profession of love unintelligible. <em>Having part of you isn't good enough for me<em>. The words stung and tore at her heart, squeezing it with a striking intensity. Maura unclenched her fists and looked down at the tattered paper shreds, "I never intended to ask you to…to settle for part of me."

_Ian_. Here he was again making a mess of her and he wasn't even actually there to do it. Jane was right in a way, she could only know what she had seen and what she had seen was Maura using men to satisfy the time in between visits from Ian. He was the only person she had ever admitted to loving in the present tense in front of Jane. _The love of my life_. She had said that. In the moment she had meant it. Meant it with every aching pang in her chest. The longing had dissipated; the feelings had slowly been pushed aside by her deepening feelings for Jane. Now it was all a proper mess, a tangled web of emotions she wasn't good at picking her way through in their most simple permutation least of all in this conflicting and competing cacophony of wants and desires that were jumbling through her head like two orchestras playing separate scores simultaneously.

_Ian…Jane_. They both left.

* * *

><p>Jane sat in the car in Maura's drive, turned the engine and flipped on the heat before reaching for the parking brake. <em>Drive, just go<em>. That's what she wanted to do, throw the car into reverse floor the gas and leave. Drive away. Really away…away from this mess of a life that seemed to thwart her happiness at every turn. She'd born her fair share she thought between work, family and everything in between. The one person she had tried to avoid loving had made that avoidance impossible even before the words had been said. It's why she had thrown herself head over heels in lust over Casey. He was a distraction, just like Beth, everyone always was and it never worked. And if it felt like this when they weren't even together she couldn't imagine how it would feel if they were. It wasn't fair because she wanted to feel that; she knew it would be fulfilling and everything she had waited for for so long. But there was that catch; one day, Ian would walk back through the door and ruin it all. It would ruin her and leave her in shambles. She had to protect herself.

_Drive away. Just leave_. Jane tried to talk herself into it. Her thumb lingered on the button of the brake and started to push. Somewhere out there some perp had Maura's I.D. and her keys. She paused, unfastened her seatbelt and put her hands back on the steering wheel. The winter emergency kit in the back had a blanket. Jane pulled it out and wrapped herself into ball in the seat. She made bets in her own mind on how long a quarter of a tank of gas would let the car idle, changing her predictions at will as time passed. The night ticked by in uninterrupted stillness, the silence even starker when she finally had to turn the car off.

Fatigue pulled her under slowly. Eyes open…eyes closed…eyes open…eyes closed.

A light tap on the window startled her awake. "Shit!" Jane gasped as she reached for the key and started the car to roll down the frosty window.

Tommy poked his head in, "What the hell are you doing out here? Did you sleep in the car?"

Jane handed him the can of de-icing spray from the kit, "Just spray my windshield why don'tcha?"

"Well?" Tommy leaned back through window and rested on his elbows, "You and Maura have a fight or something?"

Jane ruffled her hair and cracked her neck, "Look, I don't want to talk about it. Take care of her locks. And don't tell her I slept out here, ok?" Tommy nodded and Jane drove off.

* * *

><p>"Whoa, Killer!" Tommy held up his drill in surrender as Maura appeared, disheveled, in only a bathrobe and her pajamas and brandishing a hockey stick.<p>

"Tommy!" Maura grabbed her chest and took several cleansing breaths. "Sorry, I'm a little on edge, I thought the mugger was breaking in."

"Hey, no worries. Janie wouldn't have let anything happen to you. And we're going to get these locks changed out so you don't have to worry about it," the first part, about Jane had slipped loose without even a second thought. Tommy could see Maura's face fall at the mention of his sister.

"Jane left me last night," Maura set the stick against the counter and shoved her hands in the robe pockets.

"Look," Tommy walked towards her, "I don't know what went down between you guys, but Jane would never leave you after what happened. She slept in the car in your driveway last night. And she'll kill me if she finds out I told you."

"Really? She did that?" Maura's face lit up with hope. Tommy nodded. "I've got my last hockey practice today before the tryout tomorrow…"

"That's right, I'm sure you'll do great. Janie said you're like already ten times better than Frankie," Tommy smiled and gave her a wink. "I'll give the new keys to Ma when we're done."

* * *

><p>Maybe. Was there any more hopeful word in the English language than that one? Maybe. Maybe it wasn't as hopeless as she thought. Jane hadn't really left. With some precarious maneuvering of Angela's boat-sized car into a space at the rink Maura ran through potential opening lines in her head. Everything sounded forced and rehearsed and disingenuous. She grumbled to herself as she walked through the doors. The words, they would come. For better or worse they had come last night, spontaneous and real they had come. They would come again.<p>

Her hand settled nervously on the last door before the ice. _Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake! _She entered, and made her way to the team benches. Empty. Maura scanned the ice, only children, no Jane. Maybe. Maybe, she went home to change. Watching the figure skaters did little to keep her from obsessively checking her watch. Maybe. Maybe she's just running late. Skaters came and went and minutes turned into an hour.

Maura stood and slung her bag back over her shoulder. She took one more look at the ice, willed Jane to appear out of the melee of morning practice. Maybe. She shook her head. Jane wasn't there.


	10. Birdsong

**CH 10: Birdsong**

It had taken hours to fall asleep. Agonizing minutes that folded into endless hours of wide-eyed darkness. Maura thought back to the night Ian left and Jane discovered her, snot-nosed and puffy-eyed pouring her heart out over this person she loved. The pain of not being able to be with the one you love. Is there any pain more cruel? And yet, that night, she had slept…wrapped up in Jane's arms she had drifted off relatively quickly with no insomniac protestations from her heart. That wasn't the case after the previous night's confession. A rattling in the kitchen roused her from the meager two hours of sleep that her defeated body had finally given in to.

Maura considered grabbing the hockey stick as she slid quietly from bed. _Don't be silly, the locks have been changed, it's probably Angela._ She padded softly and hesitantly to the kitchen, peering with more than a modicum of trepidation around the corner, expecting the worse but finding…_Jane_.

"Hey," Jane looked up, the whites of an egg oozing through her fingers as she separated the yolk.

"Hey," Maura walked forward slowly and stopped on the other side of the kitchen island from her. "What are you doing here?"

Without answering Jane moved to the sink and washed her hands, "I thought…I thought I'd cook you breakfast before your tryout." She turned, biting down on her lip, avoiding looking directly at Maura…at first.

Agonizing silence. It hung thick and pointed. Jane felt the hair on her arms stand under Maura's stare.

"I'm sorry she muttered," summoning all her strength and apologetic humility she moved towards Maura and leaned against the counter right in front of her. "I'm sorry I ran out on you Friday night and that I didn't show up for your practice yesterday…"

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable…" Maura began to counter but was cut off by a stern _Don't_ from Jane that set her brown eyes afire.

"Don't…apologize to me," Jane continued, "You're always apologizing to me…for shit that's my fault. And I always let you…because I hate admitting that I'm wrong, even though I'm wrong…a lot. The way I handled everything this weekend was wrong."

"Not completely," Maura stepped closer, "Your concern is valid."

"Ian," Jane let his name roll out indignantly.

Maura nodded, "When I truly reflect on it, he's the only person I've ever felt like I loved. Until you. And everything I've been feeling for you has made me question the reality of what I always thought I feel for him. When you said it wasn't fair to ask you to accept part of me, I wasn't even thinking about Ian when I said what I did to you the other night. But I understand why you feel the way you do. I don't know how I would feel if Ian showed back up. I only know what I feel for you, right now."

Maura paused and forced herself to look at Jane, terrified she'd see the same look of rejection she had seen in those deep brown eyes the night before last. Jane was pensive, clearly mulling the words over and over in her head.

Jane sighed, blowing out a weighty chest full of air as she looked Maura in the eye, "You scare me, Maura. More than any person I've ever known because I know what it would do to me if I let myself fall in love with you and then…" She shuddered at the thought: Ian, the epitome of tall, dark and handsome sweeping back into town like a rogue wave and taking what she loved most with him.

"And I can't promise you…" Maura nodded, hanging her head.

"No one could make that promise," Jane added, "Because you can never know until you're faced with the choice. And I don't want to be in that position. I don't want to be on the losing end of that choice."

Maura slid her hand into Jane's and squeezed, "So, here we are."

"Here we are." Another deep exhale that couldn't expel the pain. Jane pulled Maura into a hug and closed her eyes tight as Maura's fingers dug into her back. "You're still my best friend though, you know that right?"

The laugh was hard to come by but Maura managed it between a couple of sniffles as she nodded into Jane's neck, "I know…you'd never leave me."

"Never," Jane confirmed. She pulled back and gathered herself, "Now, have I gone to all the trouble to separate these eggs to make you an egg white omelet for breakfast for nothing, or are we going to play some hockey?"

Maura wiped the corners of her eyes, "Let's play some hockey."

* * *

><p>It had all come down to this. The early morning practices before work, the off days spent at the rink. Tryout day. Patricia Saarsgard was a formidable woman. She had played goalie for the University of Minnesota women's team but cartilage damage in both her knees kept her from the next level. Coaching adult club and youth teams gave her an outlet to the sport. She had groomed the Black-Caps into one of the top teams in the league. Victory was serious business.<p>

Maura looked out on the ice and nervously tugged at the hem of Jane's old black and orange jersey, threading her finger in and out of the various holes along its lower half. It had all seemed like a perfectly good plan. The only part that had really worked out as intended was getting to be fairly decent at hockey. The emotions that conjured the plan to begin with, that confusing and unsettling fog of emotions had rolled back with each practice and each night spent listening to music. The mist had receded and what it uncovered was so obvious she was surprised she ever questioned it to begin with. Maura watched Jane skate around the ice, bantering back and forth with Marcie and Clare as Coach Saarsgard set out cones for various drills. She loved Jane. The pain of rejection made the realization all the more stark. The past months hadn't been a process of reclaiming their friendship. It had been a process of falling in love. And it had all been for naught.

"Nervous?" The sound of Jane's blades on the ice and her voice brought Maura back to reality.

"A little, yes." She eyed Jane as her…friend…took a seat next to her on the bench. Maura tried to push the previous thoughts from her mind and instead attempted to fixate on more trivial things. "The Black-Caps?" She asked, looking at the abstract bird figure in flight across the front of Jane's jersey.

"State bird," Jane pulled the sleeve around to show off the more realistic patch on the arm.

"Oh," Maura smiled, "The Black-Capped Chickadee."

"Yeah," Jane snorted, "Grace came up with the name. She works for the state historical society or something. No one liked the idea of being called the Chickadees though. It's a little…fru-fru for a hockey team. Someone came up with the Black-Caps, don't remember who. Anyway, Coach won't let me out there on the ice with you, since I've been training you and all." The tone in her voice evidenced obvious disappontment.

They stood and Maura walked towards the ice, pausing at the entrance. She clutched her stick to her chest and fidgeted with the chinstrap of her helmet.

"Hey," Jane's hand fell softly to her shoulder and turned her. "You got this, Maur. You're ready. I know you can do it."

A faint smile finally worked its way across her lips. Maura skated towards center ice.

* * *

><p>The waiting was the worst. She didn't have much experience in trying out for things. But, it felt vaguely reminiscent to when she tried out for the fencing team. Vaguely…but, much worse. She had bested everyone trying out that day, all those years ago. It was a foregone conclusion she would make the team. Her form was impeccable, her attacks exhausting to her opponents. Still, she had thrown up waiting for the list to be posted.<p>

"You look like you're about to vomit," Jane elbowed her.

"I just might," Maura took a deep breath and closed her eyes as she tried to will the anticipation away.

"You did great," Jane was trying to play it cool but in reality she was just as nervous. "Drill execution was nearly flawless." This was how she always dealt with it, the waiting game. Go over the stats and visualize the performance. Come up with all the reasons why it couldn't have gone better. "Your shots showed good power. You took those hits from Marcie really well and I think Clare's ears are still ringing," she chuckled and glanced at Maura and then down to her fingers that were picking obsessively at the worn edges of the jersey.

"Thanks," Maura muttered, nervous anticipation unmoved by the reassurance.

Jane reached out and placed her hand over Maura's, noting how they stilled immediately. "I'm proud of you. Whatever happens."

Patricia skated over with Marcie and Clare, clipboard in hand, stone-faced. "I can't imagine Rizzoli's that good of a coach, when God was giving out virtues they must have been out of stock on her day," she laughed, reaching out to Marcie and taking the crisp new jersey that was tucked discretely under her arm. "Which means you're one heck of a talent considering, what? Only a couple of months? Welcome to the Black-Caps, Maura. Practice starts next weekend." She tossed Maura the jersey and stepped off the ice. "That'll look a lot better than that dishrag Rizzoli has you wearing."

They all offered Maura their congratulations and then exited, leaving her and Jane in the rink alone. Maura unrolled the jersey and beamed.

"You did it," Jane couldn't hold back the smile.

Maura shook her head, "We did it." The accomplishment was bittersweet. The embrace Jane offered even more so. She let her body relax into Jane's, rested her cheek on a hard shoulder as she stared out across the empty ice. The vacant ice called forth that Dickinson poem to her mind again. Trial and reward. She could feel Jane starting to pull out of the hug; Maura wrapped her arms tighter around. It didn't feel like there would be a reward this time. As Maura considered the lines she realized she was never granted the reward. She had stripped herself bare. For Ian. For Jane. She lived openly in the truth of her feelings. She laid them out prostrate before those she loved. Ian always left. Jane wouldn't love her back. The smallest comfort was that her whole life had been an exercise in learning to live with rejection. It would hurt; it always did. But, she could get past it. At least she still had their friendship. At least. For the moment there was nothing she could say to herself that would convince her heart that it was enough. But it had to be.

* * *

><p>Jane, Korsak and Frost had pulled a doozy of a case. Aside from occasional badgering over test results and possible theories Maura saw relatively little of Jane during the week. By Friday the long hours had taken their toll. Jane looked haggard. Wearing the same shirt from the previous day, drops of coffee dotting the front, crumpled tail hanging loose on her left hip Jane had been slouched at her desk when Maura stopped by the bullpen on her way out.<p>

Maura recollected the look. The dark circles under her friend's eyes, her disheveled hair, the look of frustration plastered across her face as she stared emptily at the computer screen. The gnawing urge to take her by the arm, pull her away, somewhere quit, run her fingers through tangled hair and soothe that weary form to sleep.

The differences between her relationship with Ian and her…desired relationship with Jane became clearer and more stark and monumentally more painful with every day. Ian came and then he left. It was his physical absence that allowed her to recover. She had to see Jane every day. Every day. The constant reminder of what she wanted and couldn't have. The growing desire to just reach out, refuse to take no for an answer and kiss her.

She sought refuge at night in her dreams. She gave into fantasy. A world in her mind at last that gave her peace and satisfaction. Jane's lips were soft, her touch strong yet comforting. Everything she imagined it would be…because it was just that…imagining. They were together and her professions of love were returned. They made love; Jane stripped her down, one item of clothing at a time…skin on skin. Jane on top of her and inside of her. Maura recalled awaking after that dream, short of breath, flushed and aching. She touched herself and whispered Jane's name as she came.

"Checkmate."

Maura lifted her chin from her fist with a start as her eyes flashed from their blank holding pattern on the chessboard to the brown eyes staring back at her, concerned.

"You ok?" Tommy's fingers still lingered on his piece that indeed had Maura defeated. Again. For the third time that night. It was unprecedented. "I've never beaten you three times. And none of my wins have ever been this fast. You're…off."

Maura could feel the hot rush of embarrassment across her chest, neck and cheeks. She reached for her glass of wine hoping the appearance of too much to drink would explain the flush that was actually attributed to thinking about Jane. Thinking about Jane while Jane's brother sat right across the table from her.

But, she wasn't ok. And every excuse she tried to create was a lie. The rash deepened.

"Maura?" Tommy stood, "You getting sick or something? Need some water?"

Maura shook her head. If only it were that easy. "Have you…" She paused, eyes lifting to meet Tommy's. She just needed someone to talk to, someone that could maybe understand. It might not be Tommy. It probably shouldn't be Tommy. But he was there, sitting right across from her, concerned, giving her an opening. "Have you ever…wanted to be with someone so badly…loved…someone, but they didn't love you back. Not the way you wanted them to?"

Tommy scooted his chair around so that the table was no longer between them. He leaned back and laced his fingers together behind his head and took a deep breath. This wasn't his area. Frankie was the listener. Hell, Jane was a better listener than he was. He watched Maura for a moment, saw her nose crinkle as she sniffled. The first instinct was to come up with some excuse, somewhere to be, or to suggest maybe Maura talk to Jane or even Angela. His initial attraction to Maura aside, over the past months she'd come to be like a member of the family. You sucked up your own insecurities for family. When they needed you, you were there. That's how a Rizzoli was.

Tommy leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, "This about that Doctor guy?"

Maura looked him in the eye and shook her head, "No. Not…not, directly anyway. It's not him I'm talking about it." She fiddled with the chess pieces, moving them slowly back into their starting positions.

He watched. Watched as Maura looked at him silently, no words and moved a piece. He stared at the board, at the solitary piece separated from its frontline. A familiar opening move. Jane's opening move.

"Is…is this about my sister?" Tommy saw Maura's breath catch and her hazel eyes flit towards him and then away in an attempt to hide the brewing tears teeming at the edge. She nodded in quiet affirmation. He knew.

Tommy moved his piece to counter, "Lemme guess. You told her you loved her…and she freaked out? Oh!" It was so clear now. "This is why she slept in the car."

Maura moved a pawn, "Yes."

"Frankie and I have known for years. I don't know what she's afraid of. Ma, maybe?" He clucked his tongue against his cheek before finally moving his knight.

"She's afraid if Ian comes back that I'll choose him over her."

Tommy chuckled, "Would you?"

"I don't know," Maura abandoned the chessboard, focusing solely on Tommy. "I…I can't promise her."

"Nah. You'd choose her," Tommy flashed that characteristic Rizzoli smile. "You have this…can do no wrong image of my sister. Let me tell you what Jane really is. She's an idiot." He laughed as Maura cocked her head and her brow furrowed in protest. Tommy held up his hands, "And I mean that in the most loving way possible. But, it's true; she's an idiot. And this is what she does. She runs. I've seen Jane run from a lot of things over the years. She can't seem to run that far from you though. She slept in her car that night after all. To answer your question, no, I've never loved someone that didn't love me back. But I know my sister. And you know Janie too, Maura. She's gotta do everything on her terms."

"This whole week I've felt like all hope is lost."

Tommy reached out and swatted her knee until she looked up at him, "It's only lost if you let it go."


	11. What is born each night?

**CH 11: What is born each night and dies each dawn?**

Maura closed her eyes, hands submerged in the thick, wet stuffing mixture. She relaxed, fingers slipping further into the mixing bowl, stilled from their purpose.

_Nessun dorma! Nessun dorma!_

_Tu pure, o, Principessa,_

_nella tua fredda stanza,_

_guardi le stelle_

_che tremano d'amore_

_e di speranza._

_Ma il mio mistero è chiuso in me,_

_il nome mio nessun saprà!_

_No, no, sulla tua bocca lo dirò_

_quando la luce splenderà!_

_Ed il mio bacio scioglierà il silenzio_

_che ti fa mia!_

_Dilegua, o notte!_

_Tramontate, stelle!_

_Tramontate, stelle!_

_All'alba vincerò!_

_vincerò, vincerò!_

_(Nobody shall sleep!... _

_Nobody shall sleep! _

_Even you, o Princess, _

_in your cold room, _

_watch the stars, _

_that tremble with love and with hope._

_But my secret is hidden within me,_

_my name no one shall know... _

_No!...No!... _

_On your mouth I will tell it when the light shines._

_And my kiss will dissolve the silence that makes you mine!..._

_Vanish, o night! _

_Set, stars! Set, stars! _

_At dawn, I will win! I will win! I will win!)_

"I love this song."

Maura's eyes flashed open and she looked over her shoulder with a start at Angela, who was donning an apron and tying the straps around her waist.

"Did I startle you?" Angela smiled and took the stuffing for the Cornish game hens and began filling the birds. "It looks like you've been slaving away! I thought I would come over a little early and help. You were so wrapped up in the song, I hated to interrupt you."

Maura dried her hands and leaned against the counter as Angela took over, "It is a beautiful song."

"Mm, I have it on an album by Andrea Bocelli," Angela continued stuffing the birds, "You know him? The singer who's blind? I just adore his voice. That didn't sound like him though."

"No, that was Pavarotti, from a recording with the London Philharmonic of the opera Turandot from which the aria hails," Maura took a sip of her wine and poured Angela a glass, setting it down on the counter next to her.

Angela wiped her own hands and set the oven to preheat, "I don't know a lot about opera. I just think the song sounds so…so…passionate. It's very moving."

Maura chuckled, "That would be an apt description. To win the hand of the Princess Turandot a suitor must answer three riddles. If he fails, he is killed. Prince Calaf answers the Princess' riddles and wins her hand, but Turandot is distraught over his success and asks her father to renege on the deal. He refuses. In order to win her over, the Prince, who has not revealed his name tells Turandot that if she can find his name before the sunrise he will allow her to kill him instead of marry him. He sings the aria Nessun Dorma in anticipation of the sleepless night, but confident that his name will not be found and that he will live to marry Turandot."

Angela stood riveted, hand to her chest, listening to Maura recount the tale, "What happens!"

"Turandot finds a slave girl who knows the Prince's name, but she refuses to reveal it even after being tortured. She kills herself so that she will not accidentally let it slip. The Prince admonishes Turandot but then kisses her and reveals his name telling her she can do whatever she wants with him. The kiss awakens feelings of passion in the Princess and she admits that she has been battling her feelings for him all along. She declares the Prince's name to be 'love' before her father."

A satisfied grin spread across Angela's face, "Beautiful. Love wins. As it should." She turned and slid the pan of stuffed hens into the oven. "I've always believed that. In the end…love wins. What is meant to be, will be."

The smile brought on by the comforting recitation of knowledge slipped away as Maura set down her wine, "I've had my doubts about that lately." She glanced at Angela and then away, momentarily embarrassed about the revelation and its underlying cause.

Angela's hands were soothing on each of her arms. She let her grip tighten and looked Maura in the eye, "You're young, brilliant…beautiful! If I can have hope after my husband of over thirty years leaves me, so can you. He's out there." Angela gave her a wink.

_He_. Maura tried to hide the wince.

* * *

><p>Angela hung up the phone with a sulking sigh. Everyone was assembled for Sunday dinner and Jane was nowhere to be found. She tapped her foot with exasperation. "I talked to her not three hours ago! She said she was on her way home from the station to clean up and change!"<p>

Frankie could barely tear his eyes from the perfectly golden hens swimming in succulent drippings in a platter on the table, "She's been working a really tough case…probably went home and fell asleep. Her loss." He licked his lips and looked plaintively at his mother.

Angela flopped dramatically into the chair at the head of the table as she regarded the perfectly prepared family meal. Glancing first at Tommy and then Frankie, she spread a napkin across her lap, "Well, she'll just have to eat leftovers then, won't she?"

Maura nibbled on her lower lip as she stood behind Angela. The thoughts must have been practically written across her face as Tommy looked up and mouthed, _Go_. "Jane's had a very stressful week. Why don't you all enjoy the food while it's hot and I'll fix Jane a plate and drive it over."

* * *

><p>Hope. <em>It's only lost if you let it go<em>. Tommy's words echoed in her mind as she drove. _Love wins_. Maybe. Maybe not. There is only one way to know. She had spent the better part of a week wallowing in self-pity. If Jane was an idiot for running as Tommy had said, then she was equally an idiot for giving up so easily.

"Enough." Maura muttered to herself as she pulled up in front of Jane's apartment. Maybe people always left her because she let them. It called to mind a distant conversation with Jane. Her parents didn't offer her much in the way of love and affection growing up and she never really knew how to ask for more. So she didn't ask for more. That had to change. She had ignited the spark when she first confessed her feelings to Jane but when gratification wasn't instant she fell back on her patterned mode of self-protection: don't admit you need more, don't ask for more and the pain of absence is less stark. That's how she had operated for years. It wasn't true. The absence wasn't less stark, the absence merely smoldered inside – a vacant pit of emptiness that always cried to be filled.

She wanted more than anything to walk up those apartment stairs, make that promise to Jane. But, that promise couldn't be made, not with any real honesty. It didn't matter anymore. It might not work out, but she would definitely never know if it would or would not if she didn't try. What she could promise was the genuine truth of the words _I love you_ when she said them. External forces aside..._Ian_…she felt the weight and honesty of those three words in her chest when she looked at Jane.

_Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_ She didn't even need the steam soaked tatters of the paper on the mirror anymore. The verses were indelibly singed into her memory; their meaning stamped purposefully on her heart. _Awake._

* * *

><p>It was a sight. Partly humorous and partly sad – the circumstances of Jane's pathetic position being total and complete exhaustion. She lay on the bed, face down, nearly horizontal across it, legs dangling over the edge. She had managed to remove one boot and half of her sock; it hung from her foot and hovered just above the floor. At least she had removed her badge and sidearm.<p>

Maura knelt at her feet and gently removed the other shoe and both socks. "Jane." Maura whispered softly as she sat on the bed and brushed matted brunette locks back from a deeply sleeping face.

"Hmph," Jane grunted, still in the grip of exhausted slumber she stirred but didn't wake, rolling onto her side facing Maura.

"Always the hard way," Maura smiled, gingerly sliding her arms under and around Jane so she could lift her into a sitting position and slowly maneuver her vertically on the bed. She paused as Jane mumbled incoherently. Jane's head had slumped to her shoulder and Maura let her cheek rest against Jane's as one hand rubbed soothing circles at the small of Jane's back and the other caressed lightly through her hair. Maura unfastened Jane's belt and deftly removed it before shimmying the wrinkled blazer off her shoulders and plucking first one and then the other arm from the sleeves.

"I just want you to know," Maura whispered, pressing her lips to Jane's temple, "that I'm not giving up on you…on us." She laid Jane down on the bed, kicked off her own shoes and pulled the blanket at the foot of the bed up over them.

Maura scooted in as close to Jane as possible and let her fingers wind through disheveled hair before she let the back of her palm glide with reverent ease back and forth across Jane's cheek. Jane's eye twitched at the touch and a nearly imperceptible smile turned the corner of her mouth.

"I was wrong when I said I was falling in love with you," Maura watched Jane's face intently for any sign that her touch or voice was rousing her sleeping friend. She just needed to say the words, even if it meant first saying them to Jane knowing she wouldn't hear them or remember them. "I'm already in love with you, Jane."

Jane's breath was even. Maura closed her eyes and felt each light exhalation wash over her lips. She leaned in and pressed her lips to Jane's, holding the kiss for a heated moment, smiling at the little jolt she felt stir within, even though one sided. She pulled back. "I love you."

* * *

><p>Warmth. Tiptoeing along the thin line between sleep and consciousness Jane nuzzled further into the form half under her. Deep in the recesses of her mind she started to become aware. The warmth was from a body. The body was soft, their position comforting. Jane moved her head and became further aware that her cheek was resting not on the cool fabric of her pillow but on skin. She breathed in. Light floral and the faint scent of powder. The touch wasn't just under her, it was around her: fingertips scratching faintly back and forth on her shoulder blade. A deep exhale tickled her forehead and then lips pressed where the air had just washed over.<p>

Jane's eyes flashed open and she bolted upright. The shift jolted Maura from her intermediate sleep state and she sat up as well. Jane glanced at her jacket, shoes and belt on the floor and then at Maura before noticing the breaking dawn filtering in through her window. "Oh shit, I missed dinner."

Maura chuckled, her hand finding its way to Jane's back to resume the same soothing strokes that had kept Jane lulled fast asleep all night. "I came to check on you. You were out, half hanging off the bed."

"Sorry I missed dinner," her head began to droop as Maura's hand kept circling and petting her back, "the stuffed bird thingies sounded really good."

"I brought you a plate."

"Sorry if I…rolled over on top of you during the night. Hope I didn't keep you up," Jane flashed Maura a tentative smile and then collapsed back onto the bed.

Maura kept her back to Jane but peered over her shoulder, "I slept great, actually."

Jane's fingers crawled across the bed and lingered hesitantly in the air near the hem of Maura's shirt. She gave in, lightly gripping the fabric and tugging, "We can sleep another hour before we absolutely have to get ready for work."

It was so much easier when Jane was asleep. Maura settled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling, closing her eyes with a hum of contentment as Jane's hand found her own.

"Thank you," Jane mumbled, "for…checking on me…making sure I got a good night's sleep."

"You're welcome." _Just do it_. Freedom. That's what it felt like. Maura rolled onto her side facing Jane and clutched their clasped hands to her chest. The feeling was surprising, what just saying the words out loud stirred within her. "Jane. I love you." The release didn't even require a response. Satisfaction. Her eyes fluttered shut and she let a breathy, understated and near silent giggle slip out, still holding tightly to Jane's hand.

Jane watched Maura drift back to sleep. "I know."

* * *

><p>The weeklong nightmare was finally over. "Thank God!" Jane exclaimed as she hung up the phone.<p>

Frost snorted and gasped, catching himself about to doze off but snapped awake by Jane's jarring exultation. His eyes were puffy, clearly having not had as good a night's sleep as Jane. He looked at her, too tired to even form the question into words.

"Providence P.D. just picked up our suspect on the double, he was hiding out in his cousin's basement. We just need an extradition order," Jane slammed her pen to the desk victoriously and sighed, linking her hands behind her head.

"Good work," Korsak struggled to his feet. "Frost, you look like hell. Why don't you and Rizzoli both take off the rest of the afternoon. I'll coordinate with Providence on the extradition."

"Man, are you sure you don't mind?" Frost looked up Korsak for further reassurance. "Cause I feel like I got hit by a bus."

"You look like it too," Jane jabbed.

Frost pointed accusingly at his partner, "Need I remind you what you looked like yesterday? I've seen Rondo look and smell better."

Korsak laughed, "Damn, that's cold. No worries, both of you get out of here. Catch up on sleep, be ready for the next shitstorm."

"Nuh uh," Jane shook her head, "Next double is Crowe's, she called out loud enough for the other detective to look up and roll his eyes dismissively."

* * *

><p>"So good," Jane moaned into the panini.<p>

"Did you even eat last night?" Angela asked, refilling Jane's coffee.

She shook her head no. "Didn't even wake up until this morning. Completely slept through Maura taking my shoes off and turning me the right way on the bed."

"Maura didn't come home last night," Angela glanced over at the counter to check that there were no customers and then sat down.

Jane arched an eyebrow accusatorily, "You like, spy on her or something," she snorted as she continued to plow through the sandwich.

"No!" Angela countered quickly. "But I cleaned up after dinner and then I watched some tv and I must have dozed off on her couch. I woke up about 1 am and went back to the guest house and noticed her car wasn't there."

"It was late I guess, she slept at my place."

"I'm worried about her," Angela sighed at Jane's manners and chided her loudly, "You're going to get indigestion if you keep eating like a famished street urchin!"

"Ma!" Jane set the last bite of the sandwich down with a huff and wiped her mouth. "First of all, I am…famished. Second of all, why are you worried about Maura?"

"Has…has something happened with that Ian fellow? It's just…something Maura said last night." Angela stared at her daughter and waited for an answer.

Jane felt her cheeks burn at the mention of Ian. Tall, dark, and handsome Ian, with his flouting of the law in the name of the greater good. The Robin Hood of Doctors Without Borders. The James Bond of self-sacrifice. The love of Maura's life. _The love of her life_. "What'd she say?"

"Well, we were talking about this opera and it was all about this Prince who is madly in love with this Princess, but she has these riddles…"

"Ma! Could you maybe skip ahead?"

"It was a beautiful story, you should have Maura tell it to you," Angela fired back. "Anyway, I made a comment about always having hope that love will find a way."

"Jesus, Ma? What are you? Some kind of second rate hallmark card?" Jane laughed as she shook her head.

"Don't take the name of the Lord in vain." Angela narrowed her eyes and suddenly she gave Jane a chilling reminder of Sister Mary Augustine. Jane flexed her hand, which stung with the sympathetic sensation of the Sister's ruler. "Maura made a comment that she wasn't sure love always wins. It made me wonder if something happened with Ian."

Jane stared dejectedly into her coffee and shrugged, "As far as I know he's still galavanting around the third world, healing the sick and all that jazz."

"Well, she seemed down," Angela spied the small group of patrol officers heading into the café and towards the counter and stood. "Maybe you should talk to her. You're her best friend."

_Best friend. If only you knew, Ma_. Jane pushed the last bite of the sandwich away. She thought she'd successfully put Maura off. But this morning she had woken up curled into Maura's side and felt the genuinely sweet comfort of her lips on her forehead. It felt nice. It felt…better than nice. It felt…right.

Hope. Jane swirled the last gulp of coffee around her cup and downed it. What if she had been wrong to run? What if she was more a match for Ian than she had given herself credit for? But hope couldn't completely vanquish the doubt and fear. And yet, the thought of staying in some torturous limbo was just as insufferable.

"Something's gotta give," Jane mumbled to herself as she collected her things and headed home.

* * *

><p>References: Nessun Dorma, from the opera – Turandot by Puccini. Title of the chapter is the first riddle Princess Turandot gives to her suitor, Prince Calaf.<p> 


	12. Head Games

**CH 12: Head Games**

She couldn't help it. She winced every time one of her teammates checked Maura. But, to the ME's credit, she always got up. They pulled no punches in practice. _Do you think our opponents will back off during a game!_ Coach Sarsgaard would shout from the bench. _This is hockey! Not tiddlywinks!_ Tiddlywinks. Jane didn't even know what tiddlywinks was. Maura probably knew.

"What do you think?" Jane asked as they skated off the ice. "About playing with a whole team."

Maura pulled out her mouth guard and unfastened her helmet. Her face was red from exertion and glistening with sweat; her hair was drenched. She smiled, "It's…amazing! Hard. But, amazing."

"Much better than ballet…or fencing," Jane winked.

"They're very different sports, Jane."

"Ah, but which is more fun?" Jane elbowed her as they packed up their gear.

Maura paused, thought for a second and then with a resigned look answered, "This. This is more fun."

"Alright Ladies!" Coach Sarsgaard hollered from the ice. "You know the drill. Last one to the Black and Gold buys the first round!"

Maura scrunched her nose and tried to slyly crane her neck to sniff from one side to the other, "We don't shower first?"

Jane chuckled, throwing her arm around her friend as she pulled her to the door, "We definitely do not shower first."

* * *

><p>"Drive slower," Maura said, glancing at Jane.<p>

"Why?"

"So that I can buy the round for everyone," Maura went back to staring out the window.

Jane smiled and obliged, slowing down and even taking an alternate route she knew would add a few minutes on to their time such that they should be the last ones to arrive. The quiet was a bit unnerving. _I love you_. Maura's words whispered to her in the early hours of Monday morning had played through her head for days. Every interaction felt like those same three words were just on the tip of Maura's tongue; that she was always on the verge of repeating that profession. Maybe that's why she was so quiet. Maybe the quiet kept her from saying it…but it made Jane want to hear it even more.

"You ok?" Jane reached out, catching herself about to brush some of Maura's stray hair back behind her ear. _Too…intimate?_ She let her hand fall to Maura's shoulder instead and squeezed it.

"It's…I…" Maura sighed and then glanced at Jane's hand still on her shoulder. She reached for it; let her hand cover Jane's for a moment before pulling it down and clasping it in her lap. "I just have a lot on my mind."

Jane squeezed Maura's hand in return and caught the slight smile on her friend's lips before she turned her head to watch out the window again. She let the silence settle back between them. If she pressed any further she knew Maura wouldn't be able to deflect much longer. Better to let the night end with good-natured drinks with the team than sobering admissions of love.

* * *

><p>"First Round! First Round! First Round!" The team chanted in unison as Jane and Maura sauntered into the Black and Gold. Maura laughed, her somber demeanor from the car slipping away as she looked up at Jane with a grateful smile. Whatever her original intentions for asking Jane to teach her to play hockey; Jane believed that at the very least Maura had come to be part of a team and to make new friends in a way that she had never had before.<p>

"My fault, my fault," Maura offered pulling out her credit card and handing it to the bar tender, "Round's on me."

"Yeah," Jane sighed, trying to feign exasperation, "And I thought I knew a shortcut to get here faster…turns out…not so much. So, I guess that means the next round's on me." The team clapped and cheered.

Maura had almost forgotten the simmering tension between them in the car as the team's revelry coaxed her mind into a different place. Pints were drained, laughter was plentiful and the stories were…the stories were hysterical. Maura wrapped her arm around her gut, nearly doubled over with amusement as each member of the team offered up the most embarrassing story about a teammate they could conjure. At present Marcie was regaling them all with the colorful memory of the game where Kim skated out on the ice with a hot pink bra hooked somewhere on the inside of her jersey and hanging down around her butt for all to see.

"A domestic laundry goddess, I am not," Kim laughed raising her glass and swilling down the last of her beer.

The dissipation of tension didn't last for long. The bartender began passing out Jane's round, which was coming on the quick tail end of a round of whisky shots courtesy of Coach Sarsgaard and soon Maura could feel the presence behind her, leaning into her as she helped distribute the last of the new pints.

"Ok, Jane!" Claire called out from the end of the bar, "Since we don't have an embarrassing game story for Maura yet, you have to just give us a regular old embarrassing story!" Everyone whooped in agreement.

"Oh, do I?" Jane chuckled into her beer. She glanced down at Maura and leaned further into her back, snaking her arm from Maura's left shoulder, across her chest to her right shoulder where her hand settled and squeezed. "Well…"

Maura tensed. She racked her brain trying to think of what Jane might come up with in order to prepare herself. No one knew her like Jane.

Jane took a large gulp of her beer and wiped off the bit of frothy head that had splashed onto her upper lip. "I got it! Ok, so several months ago we get this call. And we're paging Dr. Isles and paging Dr. Isles and she is taking forever! Very unlike Maura. If there's two things we can always count on with Maura: it's punctuality and that when she arrives she'll be looking like the cover of Vogue. Anyway, we can't do anything until she gets there. Finally, here she comes, all flustered and flushed, her hair's a little mussed and she's streaking towards the scene just as fast as her little designer pumps will carry her when I look down…and she's got on two totally different shoes."

"Booty call!" Claire taunted as the team laughed, Marcie even graced Maura with a reverential bow.

"Damn, girl! I ain't never had sex so good I rolled out in two different shoes!" Marcie giggled, presenting her pint to cheers Maura for her accomplishment.

Maura begrudgingly let her glass clink against Marcie's with a forced smile. _Ian_. There he was again, worming his way back in. The more she danced this dance with Jane, the more unwelcome Ian's role in it became.

A multitude of conversations broke out through the team as more beer was consumed. The weight of Jane's arm, still plastered around her grew heavier. Finally, when she couldn't stand it anymore, Maura shrugged out from under Jane's half-embrace, "I need to go to the restroom."

The reflection in the mirror looked defeated…again. What was it about Jane that made her want to fight so badly but feel so incapable of doing so? The fear of failure. Maura let the cold water pool in her hands and then doused her face in it. The fear of failure. Anything she had ever put her mind to she had seen near instant results. Not this time. And it wasn't just not having Jane in the way that she wanted; it was the possibility that failure could mean the loss of her friend altogether. As much as they had tried to continue to interact in the same ways they always had there were definite times when she felt Jane's hesitancy to get close, felt her fighting the desire to pull back.

The door swung open and Maura quickly straightened up. She wiped the excess water from her face and reached for a paper towel.

"Feeling ok?" Beth Warner's reflection looked at her in the mirror.

"Yes, thank you." Maura dried her face.

"I hope everything was ok…that night Frankie called," the corner of Beth's mouth turned up in a smirk.

Maura turned around. Beth was in her practice clothes too but her team practiced at a different rink. "How do you…?"

"I was with Jane with Frankie called, it sounded serious…"

Maura glanced around and then down at the paper towel she was wadding nervously in her hands, "You were…with…Jane?"

Beth nodded, "Yeah."

Maura nodded and made her way to exit the bathroom, but not before Beth leaned in to give her a shoulder check as she passed. "I think we play each other this weekend," she called out as the door swung closed.

_She was with Jane that night._ The very night Maura had expressed her feelings. _Stupid, stupid, _she chanted to herself as she approached the bar. _No wonder she…_

Maura grabbed her keys and her wallet off the bar. She bumped into Jane as she turned, closing her eyes as she tried to fight the swelling emotions brought on even more strongly by the intoxicating scent of Jane. How could sweat and the last remnants of long ago applied body spray smell so good?

"Another round?" Jane asked.

"No," Maura maneuvered around her, "I should go."

"Maur?" It was then Jane saw Beth smile at her as she rounded the corner from the bathroom hall. "Dammit! Maura!"

Jane sprinted out of the bar and caught Maura halfway to her car. She spun her around and gripped both her arms with an alarming intensity. "What did she say!" No answer. Jane gave her an exasperated shake, "Maura! What did she say!"

"That she was…with…you. The night I was mugged." It was practically a whisper, anything louder and Maura was sure her voice would crack. "The night I…tell you I'm falling in love with you and you were with another woman. And…it's fine! It's fine Jane, it's…you have your life and we're not together. It just…I just feel really stupid."

Jane's clenched jaw relaxed and her fiery eyes softened. Her grip on Maura's arms lightened and she tried to pull the resisting woman closer, "Listen to me. Beth showed up to my apartment that night. We…we started to fool around. I was…I don't know, I was lonely and feeling sorry for myself and then she was there. But, Frankie called and I threw her off me, Maura…like literally threw her off me before we'd even gotten anywhere…to come to you. So, yeah, she was with me…but she wasn't 'with' me."

"Jane," Maura marveled at how surprisingly calm her voice sounded to her own ears when she knew what words were about to seep out, "It's just so hard being in love with you and having you not love me back."

That was the exact moment, as if out of a movie, that Jane could feel her heart break. She pulled Maura into her body and wrapped her arms around her. They stood there, agonizing minutes without words until Jane finally pulled back. "Will you just, wait here?" She turned around and ran back into the bar.

She didn't need to look; she knew exactly where Beth would be sitting. Storming up to her booth her hand locked like a vice on the collar of Beth's jersey and hauled her back into the bathroom hallway.

"What the hell!" Beth exclaimed as Jane pushed her back into the wall.

"You listen to me," Jane snarled, "We're done. Do you understand me! We're done. Don't call me, don't talk to me if you see me in public, don't fucking look at me if we're at this bar at the same time. Do I make myself clear?" Beth pursed her lips and nodded as Jane released her and left.

The dusky near dark of only a few minutes prior had turned to complete night as Jane exited the Black and Gold. Under the glow of the street lamp where Maura's car had been parked there was only light reflecting off vacant pavement.

Alone. Again.

* * *

><p>It was easy to avoid the morgue when there was no active case and no reports to beg for. Jane let Friday slip by with no interaction with Maura, thankful when her shift was finally over. Tommy and Frankie stared at her obsessively taping her hockey stick and checking her gear. They looked at each other, took a swig of their beers and then looked at Jane.<p>

"Bro…" Frankie cocked his head towards his brother.

"Dude…" Tommy shook his head in return.

"I think we're going to have to stage an intervention," Frankie winked.

Jane shot them a look. She wouldn't admit it but if there was one thing she had inherited from their mother it was _the look_. "What are you two on about?" She set the stick aside.

"Thank God," Tommy threw one hand up with relief, "I thought maybe you were trying to tape that stick until it was the size of a baseball bat."

Frankie looked at Tommy and Tommy back at him and some kind of unspoken exchange of will you or should I, went down between them. Finally Tommy rolled his eyes and stood, "Why do I always have to be the bad guy?" He walked to the sofa and sat down next to his sister, "Frankie and I were just wondering when you were going to get your head out of your ass?"

"Excuse me!" Jane's mouth dropped as she hauled off and gave her brother a fairly strong sock in the arm.

"Ow!" Tommy shook his arm out. "I said, we were wondering when you were going to get your head out of your ass and stop worrying about how everybody else in the world would affect your relationship with Maura and just worry about you…and Maura…and your relationship with each other."

"Get out," Jane mumbled.

"This is not the Jane that I know," Frankie offered as he stood and took a seat on Jane's opposite side. "The Jane Rizzoli I know doesn't run. She fights for what she wants. It's what I've always admired about you, Janie. It's why you inspire me. This…" he gestured at her, "…this person of the last few months. I don't know who this Jane is."

"We're your family, Jane." Tommy put his arm around her. "And Maura's family. Not because she's a good friend, but because you two belong together."

Jane buried her face in her hands, "She said Ian was the love of her life."

Frankie added his arm around her back, "And she said she loved you, didn't she?" Jane nodded. "And we all know that Maura can't lie."

"Maybe he was…" Tommy added, "WAS, Janie…until she met you. You keep running away and you'll never know."

* * *

><p>Jane skated off the ice and took a seat next to Maura on the bench as the Zamboni came out to smooth everything over before the start of the game. It was so easy with ice…to erase all the fissures, cracks and holes. Good as new.<p>

Maura took a deep breath and looked at Jane, "I'm sorry I left you at the bar."

"I'm not."

Maura's mouth dropped and she regarded Jane with fearful question.

"I needed to work some things out in my head. So, maybe it was good that you left me." Jane offered a smile and extended her hand, waiting for Maura to accept it, which she did. "Can we talk…after the game? The team always goes out; but I think maybe we should talk."

Maura nodded in agreement, "I think we should."

* * *

><p>The game had been close but in the first half of the third period the Black Caps had pulled ahead 3-1 on Beth's team. Jane skated to the bench as their opponents called a timeout after her goal. Coach Sarsgaard clapped as they all huddled. "Excellent play, ladies! Excellent! Ok, 2 minute warning, let's finish strong. Jane you've been working your ass off out there. Rest out these last couple and let's send Maura in."<p>

Jane smiled and slapped Maura on the back, "You got it, Coach!"

Maura looked bewildered for a second but snapped to as Jane grabbed her shoulders. "I'm not ready," she mouthed inaudibly.

"Yes…you are," Jane assured her. "Just like in training, just like in practice."

Maura took a deep breath and smiled, "If you believe in me…"

Jane reached up and stroked her cheek, "I always have."

The team skated back onto the ice and assumed their positions. Marcie won the face off and sent the puck skittering into the attacking zone. Maura was the closest Black Cap to its trajectory and pursued it, with her back turned she never saw Beth coming. One minute, she was focused on the white walls of the rink as she handled the puck, the next…

Black.

Whistles blew and a barrage of boos erupted from the spectators. A ref grabbed Beth by the arm to lead her away only to have the body in his grasp torn away by the full body onslaught of Jane as she launched into Beth slamming her into the boards. She snatched at Beth's jersey much as she had done that night at the Black and Gold and flung her to the ice.

"What the fuck is your problem!" Jane bellowed, feeling the increasing urge to do to Beth what Beth had just done to Maura until multiple pairs of hands grabbed on to every part of her and hauled her back.

"Not worth it, Rizzoli," Coach Sarsgaard warned sternly in her ear. "You can get yourself banned from the league or you can check on your friend."

Jane pulled free, pointing at Beth and conveying every ounce of raw and abject anger she could muster. She turned and took a knee next to Maura where Marcie was already putting her EMT training to use.

Blood streamed from her nose and lip, staining the white front of the brand new jersey. Marcie pulled her mouth guard out and instructed Maura to open up, "Ok, still got all your teeth," she chuckled in jest, "that's why we wear these."

Jane removed her helmet and helped Maura steady her bobbing head, "She get knocked out?"

"Oh yeah," Marcie answered.

"Hey Maur," Jane ran her thumb across Maura's cheek, until rattled and distant eyes looked at her and tried to focus.

"Hey," Maura sputtered, reaching up as pain finally registered through the fog. "I'm ok…"

"Yeah…you're just dandy there Zdeno Bergeron," Jane winked at Marcie.

"Zdeno Chara. Patrice Bergeron," Maura replied, "You're trying to trick me."

"Didn't work, did it?" Jane chuckled, taking a wet cloth offered by one of the refs she began to wipe the blood off Maura's face.

"No…because I'm fine."

Jane and Marcie each took an arm and helped Maura to stand but she immediately lost her balance and slumped into Jane's arms. "Yeah…you're fine, alright." Jane gritted her teeth and scooped Maura up into her arms.

"Don't let go," Maura whimpered.

"Never," Jane whispered as she kissed Maura's forehead. "Never again."


	13. Let Us Drift Down Together

**Author's note: **This chapter is rated M.

**CH 13: Let Us Drift Down Together**

Jane closed her eyes and let her cheek rest against the crown of Maura's head as she held her close trying to minimize the jolting and nausea inducing bumps of the car ride. She sighed; this wasn't how the night was supposed to go…in more ways than one, but especially not with her former lover going after Maura.

"How's she doing?" Marcie glanced in the rearview mirror to check on them.

Jane looked up and met her gaze, "She's asleep. That nausea stuff seems to have worked."

"Yeah, Ondansetron kicks in pretty quickly. Go ahead and wake her up, we're almost to her house." Marcie paused, "Jane, what was that about? With Beth. I've never seen her pull a dirty hit like that in a game before."

Jane pressed her lips into Maura's hair and kissed her softly, "Take a wild guess."

"Ah," Marcie nodded, "Hell hath no fury…and all that jazz."

* * *

><p>"Sure you don't need anymore help?" Marcie stood in the doorway of Maura's house.<p>

"Nah, I can take it from here." Jane replied steadying Maura as she too offered her thanks and managed a weak smile. "Let's get you to bed."

Maura sat on the edge of the bed, trying to focus as Jane busied around the room. Everything still seemed hazy as she fought to stay awake. "Jane…"

"Right here," Jane sat on the bed next to her. "At least they got you out of all that hockey gear at the hospital. You want to sleep in your track pants or take them off?"

"Off," Maura managed to shimmy out of the pants and dropped them to the floor, sliding under the covers as Jane pulled them back. "Jane…"

"Yeah?"

"Don't go," one hand extended out from under the comforter and reached for Jane. Jane took it, clasping it between both of her own and pulling their hands to her chest.

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'll be right back, ok?" She smiled, brushing Maura's hair back from her face.

"I like the way you smell after a game," Maura smiled and giggled as her eyes grew heavier.

"Now I know you have a head injury," Jane laughed in return.

* * *

><p><em>Mind over matter. Mind over matter<em>. Maura chanted the slogan over and over again as she listened to the shower run, as she fought the almost irresistible urge to close her eyes and succumb to sleep. _Jane_. What if she closed her eyes and Jane was gone when she woke up. She didn't feel right. There was a light, aching pain, and though she knew she was conscious, being awake felt like being in a fog surrounded by shadows. She had thrown up, but she couldn't remember when, or where. Jane made all the pieces fit together. Jane cleared the fog. _Please, don't leave me_.

"Are you still awake? Thought you would have conked out again." Jane finally emerged from the bathroom in a t-shirt and a pair of Maura's shorts, toweling off her hair.

"I…was afraid you'd leave," Maura rolled to her side and pushed up into a sitting position, gritting her teeth as she fought the disorientation.

"Hey," Jane sat on the edge of the bed and wrapped her arms around Maura as she sunk forward into the embrace. "I told you I wasn't going anywhere."

She laid Maura back once again and perused the ipod already secured in the speaker docking station. Maura's classical playlist immediately came up so Jane hit play. Two clear and ringing soprano voices floated out from the speaker. The intertwined vocals rippled, ebbing in waves and claiming the open air in a playful dance.

_Sous le dôme épais _

_Où le blanc jasmin_

_À la rose s'assemble _

_Sur la rive en fleurs,_

_Riant au matin Viens, _

_descendons ensemble._

_Doucement glissons _

_de son flot charmant _

_Suivons le courant fuyant _

_Dans l'onde frémissante _

_D'une main nonchalante_

_Viens, gagnons le bord, _

_Où la source dort et_

_L'oiseau, l'oiseau chante._

_Sous le dôme épais _

_Où le blanc jasmin, _

_Ah! descendons ensemble!_

_(Under the dense canopy _

_Where the white jasmine_

_Blends with the rose _

_On the flowering bank_

_Laughing at the morning_

_Come, let us drift down together_

_Let us gently glide along _

_With the enchanting flow_

_Of the fleeing current _

_On the rippling surface_

_With a lazy hand_

_Let us reach the shore _

_Where the source sleeps _

_And the bird sings_

_Under the dense canopy_

_Under the white jasmine_

_Let us drift down together)_

Jane crawled under the covers and smiled as Maura rolled over to face her.

"The Flower Duet," Maura smiled, no longer able to keep her eyes open. "From the opera Lakme…they're gathering…flowers….by the…"

Jane shook her head. "You just can't help yourself, can you?" She grinned, inching closer to Maura, threading one arm under Maura's head and wrapping the other around her to stroke her back. "Shhh, there's plenty of time for more opera lessons. Sleep."

* * *

><p>Maura's eyes fluttered. The touch was soothing as it glided across her face: soft caresses that traced her eyebrow and then washed over her cheek and back again. A sigh of contentment rushed out in a breathy exhale, and the chuckle that answered it drew her the rest of the way out from that intermediate state between sleep and awake. As she opened her eyes she became acutely aware of just how close she and Jane were. In fact, as she stirred she could feel that Jane's arm was serving as her pillow. Her eyes flitted to Jane's shoulder and followed the curve of a long arm until it disappeared over her own back.<p>

"I'm sorry," Maura mumbled, lifting her head, "you must be uncomfortable."

Jane shook her head, "I'm fine," she ran her fingers through Maura's hair and tucked it back behind her ear. She watched as Maura reached up and dabbed lightly at the cuts on her nose and lips. "Do you remember what happened?"

Maura nodded, "I think so. I was in the game…but, then the next thing I remember is blood."

"Beth Warner illegally checked you from behind." Just saying her name made the anger boil and bubble under the surface.

Maura scowled, "Did the blood ruin my jersey?"

Jane laughed uncontrollably, "There, now that's the Maura Isles I know. That concussion must not have been too bad after all. Don't worry about the jersey, it's not really broken in until you get some blood on it anyway." Jane winked.

"I remember you…" Maura continued. "You carried me."

Jane nodded, "You were a bit wobbly."

"You…" Maura stopped herself at first, pursed her lips, "you…kissed me on the forehead, you said you wouldn't let me go."

"I did."

They stared at each other. The smallest distance, never greater as hazel eyes looked into brown ones expectantly. Maura's hand trembled under the sheets as she slowly pulled it free and brought her palm to rest on Jane's chest.

"We were supposed to talk…after the game," Maura whispered, her eyes falling to where her hand was gripping nervously at Jane, her fingers curling into the bit of collarbone exposed by the drooping neck of the worn t-shirt Jane had slept in.

"I don't really want to talk."

Maura nodded and started to pull away, her eyes flashed to meet Jane's when the embrace around her tightened and held her closer.

Jane's hand cupped her cheek, "I'd rather…" she leaned in, pressing her lips to Maura's, holding the simple kiss for a moment before deepening it. Maura easily acquiesced, letting Jane claim her mouth, eyes closed as she relished the sensation of Jane's lips against her own, Jane's tongue sliding with practiced sensuality across her lip before gently sucking on it and then releasing. "I'd rather let that speak for itself."

Maura bit down on her lip to try and stem the flow of tears but it didn't work. She laughed as the drops breached her defenses and flowed down the side of her nose. "I'm sorry, I know you don't like it when I cry."

"I'll make an exception this time," Jane smiled, leaning over Maura and kissing the tears away. She paused, gently took Maura by the chin and looked in her eyes. It all seemed so silly now. A colossal waste of time: months spent trying to believe that denial would make the feelings go away and that she would actually be happy if they would. Jane Rizzoli hated being wrong, but this time she was glad that she was. Some things couldn't be denied, couldn't be dialed back. There was no return to sender. And she was glad that there wasn't, because the words and the feelings behind them meant more to her in that impending moment than anything she had ever felt. Saying them had been a long time coming.

"I love you too, Maura."

* * *

><p>Dreams. They are cruel. Even the good ones. Perhaps, especially the good ones, when they give you a taste of something that's not real and never will be. <em>A dream<em>, Maura said to herself as she inched towards consciousness yet again. She shifted, feeling fabric against her cheek rather than the warmth of Jane's arm. She curled her fingers into wadded up sheets instead of another body. She flexed her back, but there were no soothing strokes of another hand on it.

Maura clenched her eyes shut and grimaced, but the tears of disappointment trickled out anyway. She sniffled. _A dream_.

A light touch settled on her check and wiped the teary tributary dry. Maura opened her eyes and looked up to see Jane sitting next to her, propped up against the headboard, book in hand.

Maura sat up and looked nervously at the woman beside her, "Did I dream it?" She noted the look of confusion on Jane's face and feared the answer to the question she knew she had to ask anyway. "Did I dream…you telling me that you love me?"

"No," Jane smiled and pulled Maura into another kiss. "No, you didn't dream it."

When their lips separated again, Maura curled into Jane's side and rested her head in the crook of her neck. "What changed?" Maura asked.

Jane rolled Maura onto her back and hovered over her, kissing her forehead and then her lips as her thumb rolled in short strokes across a soft cheek, "I realized something." Maura cocked her head and waited. "I lied that night you told me how you felt and I said I couldn't let myself fall in love with you. I was already in love with you. At the Black and Gold, when you said it was too hard being in love with me and not having me love you back…that's when I realized it was even harder loving you back and trying to fight it. I can't fight it anymore. I don't want to. I have to take this chance. I love you. I've loved you for a long time, all these feelings that I didn't have a name for…now I do. I can't not know what it's like to take this chance with you, wherever it might go, whatever may happen. Tell me I didn't wait too long."

Maura shook her head, eyes closed and a beaming smile plastered across her face, "I love you." She opened her eyes and reached for Jane's face, "We got here. That's all that matters."

* * *

><p>"You must have had a good weekend," Frost jabbed from across the desk.<p>

"What?" Jane looked up from the file she was working on.

"You've had this goofy grin stuck to your face all morning. And unless there is something really amazing about the Parker file I'm guessing that the cause of said goofy grin is not work related," Frost set his pen down and waited.

Jane laughed and shook her head, she had to hand it to Frost, he was getting pretty good at reading her, "Ok, fine. Yes, I had a good weekend. Figured something out I'd been wrestling with and as a result life is pretty good today. And no, it's none of your business. Now, if you're cool wrapping up the Parker file, I've got lunch plans."

Frost chuckled to himself, "Not a problem. I can handle it. But, I wouldn't mind some takeout!" He called out as Jane exited the bullpen and raised her hand in acknowledgment.

Korsak walked over, hands pushed down into his pockets. He waited until the door to the unit settled and took a seat on the edge of Jane's desk. "Does she seem…what's the word?" He reached up and stroked his goatee as he thought. "Oh yes, giddy. Does she seem giddy to you?"

Frost laughed, "Yeah. Downright."

"What'd she say?" Korsak, ever the connoisseur of tidbits of love life gossip awaited Frost's response.

"She wouldn't say…but I'd bet ten bucks she and Dr. Isles finally stopped pretending they aren't madly in love with one another," Frost laughed under his breath as he reached across the desk to get the Parker file.

"Bout damn time," Korsak added. "Coffee?"

* * *

><p>"Sorry I'm late!" Maura apologized as she entered Jane's apartment. "One of the assistant ME's called for a consult, literally as I was walking out of the office."<p>

Maura paused taking in the sight of Jane's dining table, set for two, with even a centerpiece of fresh flowers. Two glasses of wine sat already poured as hints of lemon and herbs rolled out of the kitchen.

"You missed all the waiting…and a little bit of me cussing as I was trying to find what I needed to cook dinner," Jane handed Maura one of the glasses of wine as she wrapped her arm around her and pulled her in close, placing a lingering kiss on Maura's waiting lips.

"If you cooked more often, you'd know where everything was," Maura laughed before taking a sip of the wine. "It smells delicious. You didn't have to go to any trouble though."

"Lemon herb chicken with fresh asparagus and squash. And it's not 'trouble' Maura," Jane paused and squared her shoulders, "It's a date." Maura looked around Jane and again regarded the set table, the flowers, took in the aroma, how Jane had kept her suit on from work and not changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt as she was usually wont to do upon getting home.

"Our first date," Maura added.

First date. That actually hadn't occurred to her: the gravity of it being their first date. Jane suddenly felt self-conscious about the whole thing, as if maybe she hadn't made it a big enough deal. "I…" she stammered, "I…hope you don't mind that it's here. I just thought it would be nice to be somewhere comfortable and…"

Maura kissed her and smiled as the hint of fruit from the Pinot mingled with the taste of Jane, "It's perfect."

* * *

><p>Maura's moans were intoxicating, a stimulant unlike any other. Jane kissed and sucked at her pulse point, feeling the skin grow slick and hot under her lips, she rolled her thumb over Maura's breast straining to feel the nipple beneath the fabric as Maura arched into her touch.<p>

"Jane…" Maura's voice was breathy and deep and saturated with lust, "Jane…I want…you to take me to the bedroom."

The words caused Jane to squeeze Maura's breast and bite down ever so lightly on her neck, she looked Maura in the eye, fingers swirling invisible patterns across her face, neck and the top of her chest. "I…don't want you to feel rushed. It's not that important…sex. I mean…it's not…not important. It's not the most important thing, it's…"

Maura laughed and pressed her thumb to Jane's lips to quiet her, "You don't want me to feel like you're pressuring me into the physical aspect of our relationship before I'm ready."

"That." Jane nodded.

"I know you'd never pressure me, Jane. I have your heart?"

"All of it," Jane pressed their lips together.

"And you have mine," Maura pushed Jane back and stood, extending her hand and pulling Jane to her, "And now I want the rest of you. And I want you to have me. I want this last barrier gone."

Jane reached for the buttons of her shirt and slowly freed each one until she discarded the shirt and her bra after it in a heap on the floor. Her pants followed, her eyes never leaving Maura's eyes as the garment settled in the pile with a barely audible whoosh. She hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her underwear and pulled them down until they fell freely around her ankles where she could step out of them.

"No more barriers," Jane agreed as she took Maura's hand and led her to the bedroom.

* * *

><p>Jane gripped the sheets on either side of Maura's head as her hips rocked them together, her own wetness sliding with ease over Maura's, the taste of Maura's tongue in her mouth and lips against her own. She stilled her lower body movements, focusing for a moment on showering every inch of Maura's neck with soft kisses and the occasional scrape of teeth, she liked the sounds that action conjured from the panting lips below her. Jane worked lower, kneading Maura's breasts, kissing across their swell and down to first one pert and straining nipple and then the other. She licked them, kissed them, teased them until Maura's body trembled and begged without words.<p>

Two fingers slid with ease into inviting warmth. Jane worked them with deliberate slowness, reaching in and curling on the way out, reveling in each gasp that Maura emitted. "Tell me what you want," Jane stilled her strokes altogether, withdrew and let her fingers press against Maura's clit in barely perceptible circles.

"You," Maura arched her back and rolled her hips seeking more touch.

"You already have me," Jane smiled slyly, "What do you want?"

"I want you to make me come," Maura pulled Jane into a bruising kiss, biting her lip and holding onto it until she released it so she could repeat, "I want you to make me come."

"How?" Jane brought her fingers to her lips and licked Maura clean from them.

Maura wrapped her fingers in Jane's hair and began to tug and push. She pushed Jane down to her chest and then further, waiting for recognition of her desire. The glint in almost completely blackened eyes answered.

Jane settled between Maura's legs, tasting her at the source. She hummed, letting her tongue map its way. Maura rolled into the long, slow strokes, gasped and jerked when Jane dipped inside and tightened her grip in mussed brunette tresses when Jane withdrew. Delicious, drawn out agony, Maura's entire body coiled in anticipation of release. Jane's tongue circled and then finally pressed into Maura's clit, stroking it with quick, short flicks causing Maura to tremble and thrust in response. With two fingers again thrust inside Jane drew Maura's clit into her mouth, suckling gently and laving with her tongue as her fingers pumped faster and faster.

Maura came with a gravelly moan, hands still tangled in Jane's hair as she arched forward and bucked, her body jerking under Jane's continued attention until spent. She let her body go limp, a slight hum escaping her lips as she felt Jane climb back up her and settle into her side.

"That was…" Maura turned to look at her lover with a sheepish smile, "…better than I ever imagined it in my dreams."

"You…dreamed about me? About us…" Jane blushed.

"Mmhmm," Maura nodded.

"What did you do to me, in your dreams?" Jane let Maura push her back and roll on top.

Maura lifted one of Jane's legs and draped it over her shoulder, pushing their centers together. "Is this ok?" Jane nodded. "I want to watch you come." Jane gripped Maura's hips and urged her to move.

Jane hummed with each forward thrust of Maura's hips, her eyes fluttered and her head lolled back, arching her neck. She took a deep breath and looked at Maura writhing on top of her, the sight alone was nearly enough to send her over the edge, so she closed her eyes to stave off her climax. "Maura…inside me. I want you inside."

Maura reached between them, let her fingers slide back and forth as she continued to thrust until finally she pushed inside. Jane's body rocked violently against her as she braced herself up on one arm and wrapped her other hand in Maura's hair. The pressure built and Maura felt her own arousal grow again as tiny beads of sweat began to dot Jane's brow and neck, her mouth fell open and her head tilted as she came with Maura's name on her tongue. With a few more rolling thrusts Maura body sent her reeling into another orgasm on the tail end of Jane's. Spent, Maura eased the leg off her shoulder and slumped forward and settled into Jane's warm embrace.

Completely flush against one another, they kissed, arms locking them together, legs intertwined.

"No more barriers," Jane whispered into a kiss.

"No more barriers," Maura whispered back.

* * *

><p>"The Flower Duet" or "Sous le Domes Epais" is from Lakme, an opera by Leo Delibes (1883).<p> 


	14. The Ties That Bind

**Author's note: This CH also rated M.**

**CH 14: The Ties that Bind**

The feelings were indescribable. She couldn't recall ever having felt happier…more at ease. It was like a strangling and crushing weight had been lifted and all it took were words. I love you. In the end it was so deceptively simple. Jane was pretty sure Korsak and Frost had figured it out, what with all the stolen moments throughout the week to pop down to the morgue with a question or to head to the café for another cup of coffee. She would tell them, she had decided, after she told her mother at family dinner. Korsak had a tendency towards letting things slip, particularly when he talked to Angela. Jane crinkled her nose; she might have to have a conversation with him about his thinly veiled flirtation with her mother.

"Gross," she muttered under her breath.

Maura's breath hitched and her eyes fluttered in her sleep. Jane smiled and watched her dream, awash in the early morning light that had slowly been filling the room for the past half an hour. Jane wanted to memorize every part of her. She was on her back, her right arm flung behind her head while her left rested peacefully across her stomach. Jane's eyes started at her fingertips, noted how each time her eyes fluttered her pointer finger jerked in response. The occasional contented hum sneaked out from slightly parted lips. The curve of her neck guided Jane's eyes lower to her chest, which rose and fell with steady breaths. Over the swell of perfect, full breasts Jane's eyes reluctantly traveled lower still to the delicate hand resting across a smooth abdomen.

It was too much. Thirty minutes of staring at this woman without touching was like regarding an architectural masterpiece and not being awestruck by man's ingenuity, or hearing a beautiful piece of music and not being moved to tears. That was what Maura Isles had done to her: made her ponder the marvels of human creativity in relation to the stunning form in front of her.

Jane lowered her fingertips to Maura's stomach and let them stroke with the airiest caress up her body, between her breasts and over her chest until she followed the curve of her collarbone up to her shoulder and then back down. She let her hand settle between Maura's breasts and paused as she scooted in closer to her side. Her fingers roamed up to one nipple, circled it, caressed it lightly and teased it erect. Jane smiled as Maura shifted, arching her back slightly and humming.

"Wake up," Jane whispered into Maura's neck as she kissed her, hand massaging its captured breast with more force, pinching the pert nipple between her fingers. "Maur, wake up, I need you."

"Mmm," Maura opened her eyes and shivered as her now conscious body reacted more fully to the touch. "Jane…" Her voice was raspy and lustful as she turned her head to meet Jane's lips.

"You may have to…" Jane maneuvered on top of her, "start putting clothes on afterwards, before we go to sleep." She paused, looked down at Maura smiling up at her and let the back of her hand rub lovingly across her girlfriend's cheek, "Just the sight of you…"

"Maybe I like you waking me up like this," Maura grinned slyly as her fingers raked down Jane's back and over the rise of her ass. Her hand slid between Jane's spread legs to find an ample and inviting wetness. "Just from the sight of me?"

Jane nodded.

Maura licked her lips as she pushed two fingers inside, "Wow, I'm good."

Jane chuckled as she rolled her hips to Maura's thrusts, "And so modest."

Maura worked her fingers faster, curling them on each down stroke and grinding the heel of her hand into Jane's clit as her free hand gripped and dug into the flesh and bone of Jane's hip as she writhed on top.

"Maura…" Jane was panting as she straightened up, a light sheen across her taut abs as they contracted with each forward thrust of her hips. "Finish me with your mouth."

Pulled free, Maura brought her fingers to her lips and licked each one clean before sliding down under Jane and guiding her to lower herself. She lapped at the bountiful arousal, running her tongue through Jane and dipping inside her until finally acquiescing to what Jane wanted most. Maura flicked her tongue lightly over Jane's clit, circling it, stroking it slowly until she sealed her lips around it and sucked. Jane groaned, digging her fingers into the bed as her anchor as she rolled her hips with increasing urgency to Maura's ministrations.

"Fu…ahh," Jane's body coiled and seized with release, trembling and jerking through the prolonged orgasm until she couldn't take any more sensation. She rolled off and propped herself up against the headboard and watched Maura remain on her back for a moment as she licked her lips and wiped the remnants of Jane from her mouth with her finger before inserting her finger in her mouth and slowly dragging it free. "So sexy when you do that."

Maura rolled to her hands and knees and crawled into Jane's lap, "My pleasure," she added with a smile.

"Here," Jane ran her thumb across Maura's chin, "you missed a spot." She brought her thumb to her mouth and tasted herself before Maura aggressively kissed her. Jane's lips traveled down to Maura's pulse point and nipped and sucked at the tender skin as she pushed inside her.

Maura gripped the headboard, grinding hard to Jane's strokes as she pressed one breast into Jane's face and moaned when Jane began to suckle hard on her nipple. Eyes closed she focused on feeling Jane, the tingling sensation that shot from her nipple down into the pit of her stomach and then lower. The filling strokes that were working her closer and closer to ecstasy. Finally, the presence of Jane's other hand between her legs massaging her clit. Maura cried out as she came, arms wrapping around Jane and tangling in her hair as wave after wave of orgasm had her contracting to slowing strokes.

Spent, Maura relaxed into Jane's embrace. "Good morning."

Jane chuckled, brushing mussed caramel locks back so she could kiss her cheek, "Good morning."

* * *

><p>Jane fingered the sash of Maura's apron for a moment before moving in flush behind her. She locked her arms around the smaller woman's waist and rested her chin on an inviting shoulder.<p>

"You could help me fix dinner, you know?" Maura cocked her head and smiled.

"I am helping," Jane retorted.

"Really? Cause it kind of just looks like your snuggling with your girlfriend," Frankie called out as he and Tommy entered the house.

Jane made a face at her brothers and again nuzzled into Maura's neck, "I'm finding my…zen…place…or whatever."

Maura spun in her arms, brow crinkling as she reached for Jane's crestfallen face. She caught herself before flour-covered fingers made contact. Jane gently grasped her wrists and eased Maura's hands towards their intended destination.

"It's ok," Jane closed her eyes as Maura cupped her face.

"Jane? Are you nervous?"

She nodded.

"It's going to be fine, Janie," Frankie offered with Tommy at his side concurring. "It's Ma…"

Jane glared at them, "That's what I'm worried about. It's just Ma…Just Ma! When are you going to find a man, Jane? When are you going to get married, Jane? When are you going to give me grandbabies, Jane?"

Tommy motioned at Maura, "And you can still do all those things with Maura, you know…if you want. Well, except for the man part."

"Yeah, Tommy. Except for the man part. I'm sure Ma will just see right past that." Jane closed her eyes and squeezed Maura's wrists tighter. "You mean everything to me," she whispered, "I…just want her to see that. And I want you to mean everything to her too. I don't want…"

"You don't want to have to choose," Maura finished the sentence for her as Jane nodded in agreement. "Jane, she's your mother. She loves you."

"I know she loves me. And I know she thinks the world of you. But, I'm still nervous. I can't help it."

Maura raised up on her tiptoes and gave Jane a quick peck on the lips, "Help me finish the dinner prep. Maybe it will occupy your mind."

* * *

><p>The hockey game blared loudly from the living room where Frankie and Tommy sat ensconced. Jane watched from the kitchen, her arm hung lazily around Maura's shoulders, but tightened as a Bruins' shot on goal ricocheted off the crossbar of the net.<p>

"Do you think Coach will let me play next weekend?" Maura turned and held a spoonful of fresh caramel sauce to Jane's mouth, "Taste."

"Mmm, that's really good," Jane waited for Maura to strip out of the soiled apron before pulling her in close. "If we've got a lead? Yeah, probably."

Maura smiled, "I want to play. Really play. I want you to see me play in an actual game."

Jane laughed under breath and looked down at the woman in her arms with adoration. She wanted to touch her all the time. It was as if being in physical contact with Maura was now necessary for existence. In the absence of that touch she wondered how she'd ever gone so long without it. She brushed a small splash of flour from Maura's jaw and leaned in and kissed the newly clean spot.

"You know how proud of you I am, right? I don't know why I ever doubted how far you'd go…I mean, you're amazing at everything you do," Jane placed one finger under Maura's chin and lifted her face to reconnect with shying eyes.

They leaned into each other, lips melding seamlessly in a slow and heated kiss. The hockey game and Frankie and Tommy's cheering fell into unnoticed background noise. Neither woman heard the door open.

Glass shattered, tearing them both from the moment, jarring them back into reality. Jane's eyes first fixated on the floor and the red liquid pooling around dark green shards of glass and spreading out across the light-colored tile. Her gaze traveled higher, from the loafers that made no move to step out of the spilled wine, all the way up the body to her mother's shocked face.

"Ma…" It was all that came out. Jane froze, one arm still hooked around Maura's body. _Say something_. No words. In that moment, Jane knew what paralysis felt like.

Frankie and Tommy had come into the kitchen, both for lack of a better idea what to do set to cleaning up the broken wine bottle.

"Ma," Frankie looked up with a smile hoping to break the palpable tension, "watch your step, you don't want to cut yourself."

Finally, Angela spoke, she looked at Frankie and then to Tommy, "They were…did you see…they were…" She stopped, stepped around Frankie and bridged some of the distance between herself and Jane and Maura. "You were kissing!"

Jane took a deep breath and fully faced her mother, hand sliding slowly from Maura's hip across the small of her back to take her hand. "We were." If not for the gentle pressure Maura provided with the tightening of her hand in Jane's, Jane wasn't sure she'd still be standing. "Maura and I are in a relationship. It's recent. We wanted to tell you tonight…not like this, obviously…"

Silence. Horrible, agonizing silence that made her pounding heart and pulsing blood the only thing Jane could hear.

"It's a sin," Angela broke the stalemate, her voice anguished as she spoke.

_A sin_. Tears welled up behind Jane's eyes. She wanted to vomit. Her mother's words reached into her chest and tore at everything inside her. It was the last reason she had expected.

"Ma!" Frankie's tone was angry. Jane looked at him. She'd never heard him raise his voice at their mother like that. "That's! That's completely unfair, how could you say that!"

"It's a sin," Angela repeated, her voice growing increasingly shaky. "According to the Church it's a sin in the eyes of God." She was crying now, tears rolling down her cheeks as she shook her head.

Frankie stepped between his mother and sister, "You should go, Ma."

Angela's body stiffened, "You…you support this?"

"I support Jane and whatever makes her happy," he replied.

"_**We**_ support Jane," Tommy stepped up next to him.

Angela turned on her heels and left, slamming the door behind her. Jane pulled her hand free of Maura's grasp with urgency and bolted for the bedroom. The necessity of strength in the moment gone, Maura succumbed to the hot tears she'd been fighting.

"Hey, don't cry," Tommy grabbed Maura and pulled her into a hug. "Jane needs you right now."

"She probably doesn't even want to see me right now," Maura sobbed into his shoulder.

"You know that's not true," Frankie countered, placing his hand on Maura's shoulder.

Maura pulled free from Tommy's embrace and closed her eyes as she took several deep breaths. She wiped the tears from her face and looked at Jane's brothers, "It wasn't supposed to go like this."

* * *

><p>Jane crawled onto the bed and curled into a ball on her side. Her family had always meant everything to her. It was why her father leaving felt like such a betrayal. It was the excruciating fear and panic when she thought Frankie was going to die. It was the gripping anger every time Tommy did something to jeopardize his freedom. The ties of blood are the ties that bind. They may have squabbles, they may get on each other's nerves from time to time, but in the end they were always a family. Even when her mother was annoying and ridiculous she was still her mother. She had always been there, despite sometimes disagreeing with Jane's choices she was still there. Now, for the first time, she wasn't. The reason behind her mother's reaction cut particularly deep. <em>It's a sin<em>. The words burned.

Maura opened the door with trepidation, pausing in the doorway, giving Jane a moment to tell her to leave before she walked in. She sat on the edge of the bed and was struck by wordlessness, an unusual affliction for her. "I…" Head shaking, trying to fight the tears she closed her eyes and hoped the bout of emotion would pass. _It's not about you. You need to be there for her. _She reached for Jane and pulled her into a sitting position. "What can I do?"

"Tell me you love me." Jane took Maura's hands in her own.

"Jane…" It was practically a whisper. Maura tilted her head and gently held Jane's face, pulling her into a tender kiss. "I love you. I love you so much."

Jane wrapped her arms around Maura and pressed their cheeks together, "I choose you. If it has to come to this, I choose you."

A light rap at the door preceded Tommy and Frankie tentatively entering. "Can we come in?" Frankie asked. Jane nodded and motioned for them.

Jane sniffled and tried to shake her head free of the congestion, "Thanks, for sticking up for me."

"I meant it Jane," Frankie sat next to her. "You being happy is all that matters."

"Hey," Tommy reached his hand out to Jane, "We're still a family. Let's have our family dinner, what do you say, Janie?"

* * *

><p>Jane parceled out some of the leftovers onto a plate as Maura finished tidying up.<p>

"Having seconds?" Maura asked as she poured another glass of wine.

"Fixing a plate for Ma," Jane muttered, keeping her eyes glued to the now loaded plate of food.

Without comment, Maura pulled the plastic wrap from its drawer and tore a sheet, "Let me…" she wrapped the plate and tucked the ends on the bottom. "Do…do you want me to go over with you?"

"Yes," Jane answered, "There's…something I need to say to her. And I want her to hear me say it in front of you."

* * *

><p>The short walk to the guesthouse was blustery and frigid. Somehow the stark winter weather seemed appropriate for the evening's turn. Jane rang the bell and waited. Angela opened the door and shivered, pulling her robe in tighter as a gust of wind blew past.<p>

"We brought you a dinner plate," Jane held the food out. "There's something I need to say to you…"

"Ok," Angela replied meekly.

Jane took a deep breath, glanced at Maura by her side and reached for her hand. "Ma…I'm in love with Maura and she's in love with me. I've never felt like this about anyone in my entire life. I thought about what you said and I can't accept that loving someone and being loved by them is a sin. I can't accept it. The God I believe in doesn't punish his children for loving each other. I'm not asking you to change your beliefs. I'm just telling you that this is what I believe. If you can't accept me being in a relationship with Maura…" she paused and squeezed Maura's hand, "…then you need to know right now that I choose her. I choose her unconditional love over your conditional love. I love you, Ma. And I know you love me. But, I won't have you in my life if you can't accept Maura's place in it as well."

They stood silently, the three of them for a few fleeting minutes. Even the night air stilled and froze around them.

"Ok," Jane pursed her lips and nodded, "that's what I wanted to say." She turned, hand still linked with Maura's and headed back to the house.

* * *

><p>The bed had never looked so inviting. The weight of the evening still hung in the air. Leaden emotions pulled her towards a downy reprieve. Maura slinked under the covers, unsure if Jane had already dozed off, but a heavy sigh from the other side of the bed gave her the answer.<p>

"Jane…come here."

Jane rolled over and curled herself into Maura's beckoning arms.

Maura kissed her forehead as she stroked her hair, "That…gut feeling you're always putting stock in," she began. "I truly believe she'll come around, Jane. She loves you too much not to. And until then, even though I know it's not the same…I'll love you twice as much."

Jane smiled and rested her head in the crook of Maura's neck. "She'll come around," Jane whispered the uncertain words against soothing skin as her eyes closed and sleep gave respite to her weary emotions.


	15. Two Roads Diverged

**Author's note: **Wow, so it's been forever since I updated this story. But I had not forgotten about it! Just been busy with life and was really into my other story and decided to let this one simmer for a while. But, it's back now and as this busy time of work winds down, hopefully I'll have more writing time!

**CH 15: Two Roads Diverged**

It didn't get any easier. In fact, with each passing day a new emotion welled up to the extreme within her: anger, sadness, abandonment… What she really wanted was to black out the windows to her bedroom, bolt the door and wallow in her own misery. Her job wouldn't let her. Even if she could take time off she knew Frankie, Tommy, and Maura wouldn't let her wallow either. They were all that was keeping her sane, keeping her from feeling like the walls had fallen down around her.

Frost and Korsak knew. They had to. The minute they came back from getting coffee in the café on Monday morning Jane had no doubt Angela had blabbed all of Sunday night's affair to the first set of ears willing to listen. They didn't say anything, but the looks on their faces spoke volumes. She hated that look: pity. Jane Rizzoli didn't like anyone feeling sorry for her…she was doing just fine feeling plenty sorry for herself. It didn't get any better as the week wore on, they were treating her with kid gloves and by Friday afternoon she'd had her fill.

"I don't mind staying late to finish up these reports," Frost reached across their desks to grab the files she hadn't gotten to. "If you want to head on home."

"Ok!" Jane slammed her pen down on the desk, "You two…" she motioned at Frost and Korsak, "…with me." She stood and bounded out of the bullpen.

Frost and Korsak followed with trepidation as Jane led them to one of the interview rooms. The door shut with a forceful thud as she grabbed the blinds and lowered them. "I can't take this anymore! The two of you…walking on eggshells around me. I know you know, so why don't we just put it all out there."

Frost's eyes widened and his mouth dropped. He deferred to Korsak, hoping the older detective would step up…after all, he'd known Jane longer.

Korsak cleared his throat and shoved his hands down in his pockets, "Your mother…might have…"

Jane rolled her eyes, "Maura and I are together. Ok? And Ma walked in on us kissing while were getting ready for Sunday dinner and blah blah blah, I'm a horrible sinner that's going straight to hell and we haven't talked since." She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for a response.

Typical Jane Rizzoli flair for the dramatic aside, they were in dangerous waters and Korsak knew it. He fumbled nervously with the change in his pocket while he thought about what to say. To his surprise, Frost took the lead.

"You know we're on your side, Jane?" Frost paused. "You're our partner, and our friend. And you and Maura…well, we're surprised it took the two of you this long. We shouldn't have treated you any differently all week, but we thought you should tell us…when you were ready. You know, I know what's it like to feel like you've disappointed a parent…to feel like they're pushing you away."

Jane's arms relaxed and slowly dropped to her side, she remembered Admiral Frost and his cold demeanor towards his son. "I…was prepared for her to be upset. I just wasn't prepared for the reason. I don't know how we get past THAT. How the hell do you get your Italian Catholic mother to choose you…over God!"

"Come here," Korsak took Jane by the shoulders and pulled her somewhat begrudgingly into a hug. He held her there for a moment before pushing her back and staring into her eyes, "If there's one thing I know about your Ma, it's that there is nothing in this world more important to her than her children. She loves you and nothing is going to change that. Right now, she's confused…her loyalty and love for you are at loggerheads with her faith. No doubt this process has been very hard for you, Jane. But, this is also very hard for her. Don't write her off. You gotta give her some time."

Jane nodded and sniffled, "Thanks. Both of you."

Frost patted her on the back, "Now, you want us to stop tiptoeing around you, fine by me. How about I go home early and you finish up the reports," he laughed as he said.

"How about," Jane chuckled in response, "we all get down to business and knock these reports out together and hit the Robber for a drink?"

* * *

><p>It sneaked up on her – the emotions. The chat with Frost and Korsak had helped; the beers at the Robber afterwards had helped even more. But, Saturday had dragged her back down into a mood-crushing depression. The emptiness became particularly acute as she and Maura gathered their gear to head to the rink for the game.<p>

There had been so many sports related memories over the years she hadn't thought about her very first youth league game in ages. She'd actually bounded into her parents' bedroom well before the alarm to wake them up. Morning youth hockey games. It was probably the only time in her entire childhood she didn't have to be cajoled or dragged from bed unwillingly.

Recall of the details was surprising, Jane propped her head against the window as Maura drove. Her mother made banana pancakes from scratch that morning and let her pour as much syrup over them as she wanted. She took the unusual indulgence to the extreme, prompting her father to laugh and ask if she wanted some pancakes with her syrup.

Wearing a new game jersey for the first time had to be the equivalent of Maura donning a new pair of shoes for their maiden voyage. Jane glanced to her left and forced a smile as Maura smiled back. The jersey was blue and it had white stripes around the arms. It occurred to her that as sentimental as her mother was, that jersey was probably packed in a box somewhere in storage.

_Youth hockey_. Jane giggled under breath. Kids are all square and boxy, especially decked out in full hockey gear, with too-short limbs and as much coordination as a foal trying to stand for the first time. Add to that sticks, skates and ice and tell them to chase a puck around…a game of hockey between R2D2 and C-3PO would be more graceful and higher scoring. They won that game 1-0. She had scored the only goal. Jane remembered her mother running towards her after the game, squealing in delight.

_I'm so proud of you!_

Jane tried to shove the memory back into the vault as they pulled into the parking lot. But, she couldn't vanquish her mother's voice in the back of her mind. _I'm so proud of you!...It's a sin._

* * *

><p>Coach Sarsgaard signaled a time out and waved her team over. Her hand flew out and locked onto Jane's jersey and threw her onto the bench, "Cool your jets, Rizzoli! Before you blow this game for us!"<p>

Jane ripped her helmet off and slung it with all her force into the corner as she sulked to the far end of the bench and sat down. Maura began to turn from the huddle to check on her but a strong grip landed on her arms and pulled her back.

"She's your girlfriend before the game and after it," Marcie whispered in her ear. "But during…she's just your teammate. You gotta let coach handle it."

Maura bit down on her lip and nodded. There was no denying it, Jane had been a mess through most of the game: bad plays and stupid penalties had them only one goal up on what was arguably one of the worst teams in the league. The players skated back on the ice and everyone, Maura included, left Jane to stew alone. Two long minutes finally ticked by as the horn sounded signaling the end of the second period. Maura watched out of the corner of her eye as Coach Sarsgaard approached Jane.

"You gonna get your head out of your ass for the third period, Rizzoli? Or would you rather keep the bench warm for the rest of the game?" Patricia took a knee in front of one of her best players.

"I wanna play," Jane answered. "Just had a really rough week…"

"Gotta leave it at the door."

Jane nodded.

Patricia stood, "Ok, pull yourself together. I'm going to put Maura in the game. See if that helps your focus some."

* * *

><p>They were barely in the car, seatbelts fastened as Maura sighed and looked at Jane. Jane watched their teammates tear out of the parking lot on their way to the Black and Gold.<p>

"Is there a reason why you're not driving," Jane motioned at the other cars.

"Don't shut me out," Maura replied, "Not after all we've been through."

Jane pinched the bridge of her nose and crinkled her brow as she sat silently. In a sad way, it made her admire Maura even more. How she had gone a lifetime with an absent mother and yet still matured into the caring, wonderful person she was privileged to love and be loved by. And here she was, one week without speaking to her mother and crumbling. "I miss my Ma," Jane whispered.

"Jane…" Maura reached for her and pulled her into an embrace, fingers winding through her damp hair and massaging her scalp. "I know. I wish there was more that I could do."

"For now…" Jane pulled away, sniffling as she wiped at the tear that had sneaked out while simultaneously trying to force a smile, "…can we just go to the bar and celebrate?"

* * *

><p>The sight of the Black and Gold helped push the earlier darkness away. If anything could help her sweep the emotional funk away even if only for a couple of hours, hockey victory and beer with her team ought to do the trick.<p>

Jane placed her hand on Maura's shoulder and stopped before they entered. "It's going to be all loud and crazy in there, so I just wanted to say…I'm really proud of you and seeing you score that goal was one of the most exciting things I've ever seen. And seeing you stand there on the ice in complete shock afterwards was one of the cutest things I've ever seen." Jane chuckled and leaned in to give Maura a tender kiss.

As they walked into the bar the entire team stood and began shouting "First goal! First goal! First goal!" They descended in a flock on Maura, pulling her out from under Jane's arm and hoisting her in the air as they paraded around the bar. The display complete they deposited Maura on the bar as pints were passed around.

Maura sat sheepishly at first, her legs crossed daintily, even in her hockey uniform. She wasn't used to this kind of public accolade. As the Black Caps were wont to do the stories soon started and by the umpteenth retelling from every individual perspective of the goal that gave them the victory out of the jaws of a tie that had come early in the third you would have thought it was the story of an Olympic Gold Medal clinching goal with one second left in the game.

"It was mostly luck," Maura replied modestly, smiling as she took another sip of her beer.

Modesty only goaded her team into louder histrionics and exaggerated clinking of their pint glasses together. Through the melee Maura could occasionally see a teammate split off and conference with Coach Sarsgaard and Jane at the end of the bar and then return. Finally, Patricia and Jane joined the large group.

"We have a little tradition for scoring your first goal!" Patricia raised her hands to quiet her team. "It usually involves drinking a pint out of your hockey skate…"

Maura shuddered and crinkled her nose.

"…but," Patricia continued, "Jane here said that's a no go. So, we'll just skip to part two of the tradition." She held up a puck, its black rubber broken up by tiny silver signatures, "Game puck. Maura Isles."

Maura caught the puck as their coach tossed it to her and turned it over and over in hands as she looked at all of her teammates' names signed across it. Jane's was in the middle and underneath her name it read: _proud of you_. She nodded, choking out a thank you as tears welled up behind her eyes. Arms wrapped tightly around her waist and hoisted her down from the bar. Maura looked up into Jane's eyes and smiled.

"Better than the opera?" Jane asked with a wink.

Maura laughed and nodded, "Better than the opera."

* * *

><p>She had bided her time and eventually Jane had dozed off on the sofa in front of the Sunday sports report allowing her a moment to slip away. Maura walked to the guesthouse and knocked on the door.<p>

"Hi," Angela answered solemnly as she opened the door.

"Can we talk?" Maura clasped her hands together to still her nervous energy. Angela nodded and stepped aside so she could enter.

"I just made some tea…would you like some?" Angela reached for two cups without even waiting for an answer and filled them before joining Maura on the sofa.

"This is very good," Maura remarked as she sipped the hot beverage. Angela didn't seem inclined to initiate a conversation and Maura began to question if coming over had really been such a good idea. Nonetheless, awkward or not, she needed to reach out. "I came over because…I want to understand where you're coming from. Do you think that because Jane and I are both women, that we can't love each other?"

Angela sighed and set her tea down, "No. That's not it. I believe you, when you say you love her. We all know you can't lie. And Janie…I don't think she's ever told anyone she loves them, so if she says she does, it must be true."

"I do love her, Angela. Very much." Maura paused, hesitating for a moment before letting her hand settle on Angela's wrist, "She's given me a life of warmth, companionship and family that I never thought I would have. But, when she hurts, I hurt. And right now she is in terrible pain, because you're her mother and she loves you, but she loves me too and she doesn't know how to have both of us."

"I love her too," Angela buried her face in her hands and cried. She wiped at her eyes and turned to look at Maura, "The Church says to act on it is a violation of divine and natural law. And my priest says my motherly duty is to encourage and guide my child towards a righteous life, especially if she's gone astray. But, I love my daughter. And…I love you too, Maura, you've become like a second daughter to me. This is all very confusing and disorienting."

Maura thought for a second, trying to gather her thoughts, "It's no secret, Angela, that I'm not a very religious person. I don't go to church; I don't consider myself any particular denomination. But, that doesn't mean I lack a certain spirituality. I won't pretend to know all of the doctrinal ins and outs of your faith, but I don't believe the Bible was intended to be used as a weapon to alienate God's children from his Word, to separate us from Christ or from each other. If anything I think its sole purpose is to show us the way of unconditional love. That is the faith that I hold."

She stood and walked to the door, stopping before she opened it to turn and face Angela one more time, "Tommy and Frankie are coming over for dinner at 7, you are of course welcome to join us."

* * *

><p>"Mmm, full," Jane groaned as she eased down to the sofa and settled alongside Maura as she curled up under her arm.<p>

"The second helping might have been a little excessive," Maura jabbed.

"Worth it," Frankie moaned in uncomfortable commiseration with his sister.

"If I'm ever on death row," Tommy chimed in, "Lobster ravioli with cream sauce…last meal. I'm just letting it be known."

Maura chuckled and shook her head.

"Maur," Frankie shifted in the chair, slinking down to take the pressure of his stomach, "If you and Jane ever break up…can we still come over for dinner?"

"Hey!" Jane protested, but making no attempt to move from the comfort of Maura's shoulder, "If quick movements wouldn't have disastrous side effects right now, I'd throw something at you."

Angela stood at the kitchen door and pondered the best course of action. _You haven't gone in yet; you can always turn around._ She looked down at the plate in her hands. _But, it would be a shame for them to go to waste. _A light snow was starting to fall and she looked up at the night sky that was blanketed with a grey haze. "Why?" she asked aloud.

Dulled by the overindulgent food coma and the noise from the television, no one heard her enter. Angela paused in the kitchen and regarded the scene in front of her: Tommy and Frankie in chairs, staring intently at the tv, Jane and Maura stretched out on the sofa together – Jane's head in the crook of Maura's neck as Maura's hand stroked lightly up and down her arm. Jane had never been affectionate like that…with anyone.

Angela walked into the living room, "I…made cannolis."

Jane sat up and then stood, "Hey…Ma."

"Jane." Angela looked down at the plate and then over at her sons. "I'll, just leave them in the kitchen."

Jane clenched her fists and bit her lip, "Ma!" She trotted after her. "We have…do you want some dinner? We have leftovers. Maura made lobster ravioli." She didn't wait for an answer; Jane began fixing a plate.

"Thanks," Angela took the plate. Their eyes locked and Angela had to force herself to glance away from the pleading look on her daughter's face. "I have the early shift tomorrow morning and I'm a little tired, so I'll just take this with me."

"Ok," Jane nodded, "Thanks…for dessert."

With one hand on the doorknob, Angela looked over her shoulder, "I know they're your favorite."

Jane brought her thumb to her mouth and bit down on her nail as the door shut behind her mother. Maura's touch was soft and comforting on her back. She turned and melted into Maura's arms with a sigh, "That's something, right?" The question was laden with a need for reassurance.

Maura kissed her temple, "It is. I think it is."


	16. My Heart and Hand

**CH 16: My Heart and Hand**

If Jane Rizzoli had to sit down and write out a list of all of her virtues, patience certainly wouldn't make the cut. Yet, that's what her relationship with her mother had become over the past weeks: an exercise in patient waiting and recognition that baby steps no matter how small and imperceptible at first were still forward movement.

_At least we're talking_, Jane mused as she strode into the café. Yet, her relationship with Maura still seemed to be the elephant in the room. They talked about Tommy and Frankie, work, Angela even inquired about league hockey results but never about the relationship. Maura reported that her interactions were much the same; they discussed new recipes, opera, and the weather but never Jane. Her patience was wearing thin; Jane wanted her mother back. On more than one occasion the temptation to scream, yell and cry in frustration took hold. The Jane Rizzoli of nary more than six months ago might have just given in to that: lashed out at everyone and then walled herself up in order to push them all away.

Maura kept her on an even keel. _Have faith_, she whispered into Jane's ear with resolute confidence in the eventual end result every time she noticed Jane's resistance to the depression begin to wane. _Have faith_. Sometimes, she closed her eyes and let Maura's words play over and over again in her mind. A mantra of sorts. Maura seemed to have enough faith for the both of them; it became Jane's crutch and helped her limp through the pain and feelings of abandonment.

She'd pulled an all-nighter with Frost on the trail of a kidnapping/double-murder suspect and didn't expect to catch a nap for several more hours. "Caffeine," she groaned as she took a seat at the café counter and waited for her mother to finish taking the line of orders at the register.

"You look terrible," Angela said sympathetically as she appeared in front of Jane.

Jane's eyes snapped open, she had started to doze off and reached up to rub her eyes, "Thanks," she chuckled. "All-nighter working leads on a suspect. Need coffee…and food."

Angela reached under the counter and pulled out a special mug, twice the size of the café's standard issue there was a long crack in the white ceramic that ran straight through an Italian countryside scene. "I think you could use this size today," Angela offered with a small smile, "Sit tight, I'll fix you some breakfast…and something to go for Frost and Korsak."

"Mmmm," Jane groaned in expectant pleasure as the plate of pancakes was placed before her. The dollop of butter in the center melted on the fresh heat. Those burnished cylinders were worth as much as real gold to Jane at that point. "What?" Jane cocked an eye towards her mother, "No bunny pancakes?"

Angela stripped off her apron and wiped her hands as she made her way around the bar to sit next to her daughter, "You complained the last time I made you bunny pancakes here."

_Oh_. She had complained. Jane couldn't remember what she had said exactly; only that it was something to the effect of chastising her mother for still treating her like a child. Bunny pancakes were fine…if you were eight. She wouldn't have complained if her mother had set them down in front of her today. It would have been another glimmer of hope…connection. "I'm sorry," Jane muttered. "I'm sorry I complained."

Angela Rizzoli was never one to have much recognition for the appropriate time and place. More than once she'd been on the receiving end of an exasperated _Ma_ that flew off the embarrassed tongues of one of her children. When Frank had left she didn't think there could be any greater pain than that. Then, she'd walked in on Jane and Maura kissing. It wasn't that Jane was gone like her father was, no, she still saw Jane almost every day. It was a different kind of absence. A deep and gnawing vacancy that settled deep within her. She had often wondered if she'd been a good enough mother, but in that moment she felt like she had truly failed. Angela had spent the past several weeks trying to reconcile her intense and unyielding love for her daughter with the persistent ache of spiritual loss that her faith imposed on her.

"My heart hurts, Janie," Angela sighed and stared down at her tightly clasped hands.

The clatter of Jane's fork to the plate stood out as the only sound in the bustling café. Jane pressed her forehead to her balled up fists and closed her eyes. "I…can't do this right now, Ma. I'm on a case," she replied shakily.

"And I can't do this Jane…I can't not be your mother. I lost your father; I can't lose you too."

"Don't you understand, Ma?" Jane took a deep breath and looked at her mother. "You never lost me. I didn't go anywhere. I'm the same as I was before…better actually. That's what I want you to see. I didn't leave you, Ma. I know after the shooting I was distant and I pushed a lot of people away. Maura brought me back. I haven't gone anywhere. I'm right here, Ma. Maura's just…right next to me now."

Angela nodded and wiped at the trickle of tears that were wetting her face, "I'm going to let you eat your pancakes. And fix the boxes for Frost and Korsak. When…when can we really talk?"

The lines in her face seemed so deep, the circles under her eyes so dark. Jane finally recognized the pain her mother had been in all this time. Her heart hurt. Both of their hearts hurt. And in good, old fashioned Rizzoli stubbornness they had let that hurt fester.

Jane's face softened and she extended a hand, her eyes lowering to stare at her palm, waiting to see if her mother accepted the gesture. She smiled and closed her eyes as she felt the warmth of her mother's palm cover her own. "Come to family dinner this Sunday, Ma. Please."

The strength of the squeeze Angela gave her hand energized her. Jane didn't feel as exhausted as she had when she walked into the café. It struck her that the inkling of hope was a powerful thing.

"Ok," Angela whispered.

* * *

><p>Everything was hazy, Frost couldn't remember the last time he was so tired. "I think I could sleep standing up in this elevator if I just closed my eyes," he mumbled as the doors opened in front of the morgue. He wasn't even entirely sure how his body was functioning, adrenaline had worn off long ago; he'd consumed enough caffeine to give a horse a heart attack and was pretty sure he'd become immune to the stimulant in the process. He lurched forward towards the morgue. A lab assistant, face buried in a file was coming through the doors, he could see that…<em>move<em>…his body didn't react and took the full force of the flung door square in the face.

"Ow…" Frost groaned as he cupped his hands over his nose. The lab assistant's profuse apologies were of little comfort. He could hear the faint tap of Maura's heels as she trotted up next to him.

"Oh my," she winced as he pulled down his hands to reveal a bloody lip. "Come to my office and let me take a look."

"I swear," Frost took the paper towel from Maura and blotted the cut, "I could see the door opening and I just couldn't move out of the way."

Maura pinched the bridge of Frost's nose, "Well, you're lucky. Your nose isn't broken. When was the last time you slept?" Frost shrugged, he honestly couldn't remember.

The Medical Examiner shook her head, "Sleep deprivation causes cognitive impairment, dulls coordination, lengthens reaction time and clouds judgment. It has virtually the same impact on the brain as alcohol intoxication. Not to mention deficits in attention and memory. All, of course, essential to your job performance," she scolded.

Frost laughed, "Yeah, yeah…we know. It's just…"

"The case doesn't stop just because you do," Maura finished the sentence and placed her hand on Frost's shoulder, "I know."

"Anyway," Frost stood, "I came to see if maybe those trace results you sent off had come back."

"Not yet," Maura sat at her desk and checked her computer to be sure, "No, should be soon though. I'll send them up as soon as I have them."

"Thanks Doc," Frost made his way to the door.

"Barry…" Maura stopped him, "How's Jane?"

"She's with the victim's grandmother…"

"No…" Maura paused, "I mean…how…is she?"

He walked back to her desk and sat on the edge. "You guys not talking or something?"

Maura fiddled with a pen on her desk as she bit down on her lip, looking away momentarily before she locked eyes with Frost, "No, it's not that…it's just…I feel like sometimes she doesn't want to burden me with the full extent of her struggle with…"

"Angela," Frost nodded. "You know, Jane always wants to protect people, especially the people she loves. Especially you. She doesn't want you to feel like the issues with her mother are your fault."

"But, aren't they?" Maura's voice was tinged with sadness.

"Hey," Frost put his hand over Maura's, "You've helped me a lot with my…" he cleared his throat, "…squeamishness. Let me help you. No, it's not your fault. I let my past with my father mess up a lot of relationships in my life. I pursued women who weren't emotionally available, women who treated me like my father had. I set myself up for failure and I sabotaged relationships. Doc, you've gotten it right this time, and Jane knows she's gotten it right too. That's why she doesn't want this business with Angela to come between you guys…why maybe she doesn't let you know how much her mother's reaction hurts. Because, you loving her isn't wrong and this is not your fault. She just wants to protect you from that."

Maura smiled and squeezed Frost's hand, "You're very good at this…this pep talk thing," she laughed.

"Well, I don't like to brag," Frost smiled as he stood. "You hang in there, Doc."

"You too, Detective."

* * *

><p>Maura tiptoed quietly into Jane's apartment, placing her finger to her lips to shush Joe Friday, who looked up at her quizzically before shaking her head and jingling her collar and leash in response. Jane hadn't even made it to the bedroom, having collapsed on the sofa fully clothed. She was in the same position Maura had found her in a half an hour earlier when she left with Joe for a walk. The little dog once unleashed, unaware of her owner's need for sleep, bounded to the sofa and leaped onto Jane's stomach.<p>

"Joe!" Maura gasped quietly, but it was too late.

"What the!" Jane's eyes flashed open and she bolted upright.

"I'm sorry," Maura groaned and shooed Joe to the floor, "I took her for a walk and…I guess she just wants your attention."

Jane rubbed her eyes and fell back down to the sofa. She reached for Maura's hand, "How was the game?"

"We won."

"Mmm, sorry I missed it."

Maura ran her fingers through Jane's hair, it was wild and tangled and in need of some care after days of neglect, "You needed the sleep."

Jane nodded, "Claire was reunited with her grandmother this morning and we got the extradition order from Cincinnati on our suspect."

"Good," Maura leaned down and softly pressed her lips to Jane's, "Now you can all get back on a normal schedule."

"Until the next kidnapping/double homicide," Jane sighed.

"Until then," Maura turned and removed Jane's boots before pulling the blanket off the back of the sofa and covering her, "for now…more sleep."

"Kiss me again," Jane reached for her, wrapping her arms around Maura and holding her tightly as their lips met and ignited a connection lost for days in the emotional backdraft of the case. Jane began to laugh and cupped Maura's cheek, "You smell."

"Oh! Really!" Maura feigned offense, "Have you smelled yourself after a hockey game?"

Jane's face softened and though still clearly exhausted her eyes had regained some semblance of life, "I like this smell on you. It means you got to play." She reached lazily for the iPod dock remote on the table and fumbled with it until she managed to turn it on and press play. "Nap with me."

Jane scooted to make room for Maura and then turned on her side so she could bury her face in Maura's neck with a reverent and lingering kiss.

A soft and rolling string intro ebbed through the room. Two soprano voices danced around each other accentuated by a complimentary bass and tenor. A delicate tangle of a song.

"Fidelio," Maura smiled, "Beethoven's only opera. You would like this one. The story details the struggle for liberty and justice, not only in terms of the sacrifice and heroism of the lead Leonore but as a metaphor for the larger political climate and outlook in Europe at the time."

"Mmmhmm, totally why I downloaded it," Jane smiled and chuckled into Maura's neck as her eyes grew heavier with impending slumber. "I like this song…sounds like a love song."

Maura felt Jane's eyelashes flutter sporadically against her neck, tickling the skin until they stilled. Her breathing evened and slowed. She tightened her arms around Jane and smiled as she closed her eyes, listening to the voices float through the air around them. Deftly, she tucked a stray lock of hair back behind Jane's ear, "My heart and hand are thine, My heart proclaims it true, I love no other one, As I have love to you, to you."

* * *

><p>Wind whipped loose snow from the naked branches in the yard and sent it sparkling down like fine mist under the soft glow from the backyard lights. Jane watched the glittery flakes fall from the warm reprieve of the glassed in sun porch of Maura's house. She'd barely been able to eat with her mother sitting at the head of the table at family dinner after her weeks-long boycott. Now, on a somewhat empty stomach the gentle warmth of the glass of Chateau Cos d'Estournel was starting to loosen her up. The words rolled around in her head, she couldn't remember exactly how Maura had pronounced it, only that she'd retrieved the bottle from her portable wine cellar in the basement…where she kept her expensive bottles that only came out for a special occasion.<p>

Jane wasn't sure this was the kind of special occasion fine wine should be brought out for, but then she doubted she'd find a pairing suggestion for: wine to go with hoping my mother doesn't permanently disown me for being in love with another woman. It was Maura's way of making a gesture, a little touch to show how sincerely she wanted the night to go well. So, Jane had let her uncork the bottle.

"You and your brothers used to have some huge snowball fights when you were kids," Angela stepped up next to her.

Jane smiled and thought back to those days. Everything seems perfect when you're a child, when you have no concept of the way the world can turn everything upside down at the drop of a hat. "I always won."

"Of course you did," Angela chuckled, taking a sip of the Bordeaux. "You were always the most competitive. Frankie's competitive too, but not like you. You always had more drive."

She thought for a minute, "I don't think that's it. Frankie…he's just more grounded. He recognizes when something is a lost cause and he lets it go. I never learned to do that."

"Ah," Angela nodded, "is that it? I think many people find that never say die attitude admirable."

"Except when it makes you do stupid things," Jane added as she looked over at her mother.

They walked to the sofa and sat, letting silence settle in the space between them. Angela looked at Jane until her daughter finally gave in and looked back. "You and I, Janie…we're a lot alike you know. You probably hate to hear me say that," she laughed, "but, it's true. You and your father always had the sports thing in common, but other than that, I think you're really more like me."

Jane swirled the wine in her glass like Maura had taught her in order to enhance the flavor and took a sip, "How's that, Ma?"

"We're both passionate, loyal, hot-headed…most of all, we think with our hearts first and our heads last, we feel things very deeply. We express it differently, you and I, but I think at its core…it's the same," Angela paused.

It occurred to Jane that her mother was probably right. They really were more alike than she was like her father. That had been a large part of the hurt of his leaving, realizing that he wasn't the man she had thought he was all those years. "I'm supposed to be the withdrawer though, and you're supposed to be the engager."

Angela considered that for a moment, "It didn't go that way this time, did it?"

"The other day, when you said your heart hurts…mine does too Ma. I didn't withdraw this time, Ma, because Maura won't let me be that person. I finally found someone who makes me better and I felt like because of it I lost you, when all I wanted was for us to be a better family than we were before. She…" Jane growled as warm tears began to fall, "…she fills a hole inside me."

"And I thought I lost you, Jane. Not because you weren't there, because I thought I failed as your mother. I don't think I ever even realized what effect the Church's teachings have had on me. All of a sudden it wasn't just some stranger, it was my daughter kissing another woman and telling me she's in love with her…and I thought I failed as your mother and I thought I had failed to…I don't know, bring you up spiritually."

Jane set her wine aside and reached for her mother's hands, "You didn't fail me, Ma. God hasn't failed me and as far as I'm concerned, I haven't failed God or my faith. Not for loving someone. That can't be wrong."

"It's not wrong," Angela nodded and squeezed her daughter's hands. "If there's something I've never done…it's give up on family. Not all those years when I tried to hold it together with your father, not when your brother was put in jail, and by God not now. I'm not saying I'm perfectly ok right now, but I'm going to get there, Jane. I love you and you know what, I love Maura too. There's always been something special about her and if I wasn't…well, if I wasn't so Catholic and so Italian I probably would have seen this coming." They both laughed. "I'm sorry I failed you as a mother, not because of you being gay, or bisexual or whatever you are, Janie. But, because I walked away when you needed me. I promise you, I'll never do that again. I may not understand all of this yet and I still need time to reconcile some of the conflict inside of me. Can you keep being patient with me?"

Jane sniffled and wiped the last tears away, "Yeah, Ma. I can do that." She slumped forward into her mother's arms and breathed a sigh of relief. It would get better; her mother was right, no trials had torn their family apart yet.

When they pulled away, Maura had entered and was standing in front of them. Jane rose and took her hand. "Let's try this again." She turned to her mother, "Ma, Maura and I are in love and are in a relationship."

Angela stood and placed her hands gently on Maura's cheeks, "Don't look so scared," she whispered with a smile. She glanced at Jane and then back at Maura, "You know, I'm a pretty simple woman. All I ever wanted in life was a family. And then I got married and had Jane and Frankie and Tommy and I knew that having them was my purpose…well, that and feeding people."

Maura smiled and laughed under breath.

Angela smiled back, "All I wanted for my kids was for them to have what would make them the happiest. Jane has a career that she loves…and friends and for all these years I thought the only thing missing was the foundation of having a family of her own…finding a man, getting married, having that someone to come home to every night. Someone who would love her for who she is, someone that would understand her in ways no one else can, someone to support her, someone to put up with her when she just needs to be put up with and to put their foot down when she's being ridiculous. She got that temper from me; I should probably apologize to you for that. I think she's found that person, and the only way in which you're not exactly what I imagined for her is really the least important way because in every other way you're what she's been looking for and what I always hoped she'd find."

Maura closed her eyes and didn't even fight the tears that streamed out. She felt Angela's thumbs softly wipe them away. "Jane says you fill a hole inside her." Maura opened her eyes. "If you make my daughter whole…you are family. And I'll make the same promise to you that I did to Jane. I'm not perfect and I may still have my moments. But, Angela Rizzoli doesn't walk out on family."

* * *

><p>Notes: Jane and Maura reference "Mir ist so wundebar" also known as the Canon Quartet from Beethoven's opera, Fidelio.<p> 


	17. Flowers in Winter

**Author's Note: This chapter is rated M.**

**CH 17: Flowers in Winter**

Months ago Maura had stood during a sleepless night in a darkened doorway and looked out on a lonely night when the last throws of fall were threatening to yield to an impending winter. She had been so lonely. It was almost comical now, to think back on that tangle of thoughts and feelings when she was trying to separate all the confusion…to unknot it like a delicate chain ransacked by years of neglect in the back of a seldom-opened drawer.

Boldness. For so long Maura had thought that was something you either had or you didn't. You were born with it. Like Jane. She didn't think she would ever have that same bravado. But, months ago, the time had come to make a choice: live lonely without ever knowing or take a chance. She had taken a chance. It was a small step at first, asking Jane to teach her to play hockey, but then she realized being bold didn't necessarily mean taking great leaps or vaulting over canyons. One small step. Being bold was having the courage to move forward and to own responsibility for the possibilities of the future, even when it was scary as making such moves usually was, and even when the future was completely shrouded in the unknown.

Now, winter was slowly succumbing to spring. It was biting and clawing to hold on as winter always did, it was an unforgiving and unyielding season. Yet, the feeling of change was on the horizon. The sky was just a little less grey with each new morning. The cold still lingered and the occasional flurry fell but it didn't feel so pervasive. Everyone around her still complained about the weather; maybe it was because everything felt so right for once, but Maura didn't really notice the cold anymore.

She looked up at the spotty sunlight peeking through the smattering of clouds as evening began to fall. The outdoor ice rink's days were probably numbered. The temperature crept higher each day and soon the ice would begin to melt.

"Awake, my heart, to be loved, awake, awake!" Maura whispered, the words turning into a puff of steam on the late afternoon chill, floating a short distance above her and then dissipating, carried away. Words on the wing of a breeze to find their way to someone who needed them more. She hoped they could be the same inspiration to another lonely heart as they had been to her

"What was that?" Jane asked, skating up behind her and throwing her arms around Maura as she rested her chin on the shorter woman's shoulder.

"A line from that poem…" Maura turned her head and smiled as Jane began to push her forward, forcing her to skate. "The one I had on my bathroom mirror…the one you read the night I told you I was falling in love with you."

"Ah," Jane gave Maura's stick a playful swat with her own, "that poem. You took it down."

Maura shook her head as they slowly glided around the outside of the small rink, "The condensation that accumulated on the mirror degraded the paper. It fell apart and I threw it away, which was fine, because I didn't need it anymore."

"Why's that?"

Maura stopped and turned in Jane's arms, "_Awake, O heart, awake!_ _She too that loveth, awaketh and hopes for thee:_ _Her eyes already have sped the shades that flee,_ _Already they watch the path thy feet shall take:_ _Awake, O heart, to be loved, awake, awake!_ _And if thou tarry from her, - if this could be, -_ _She cometh herself, O heart, to be loved, to thee…_You came to me."

Winter had no cold vile enough to steal the warmth from Maura's lips as Jane took them against her own. She'd never understood before why people put so much romantic stock in kissing. It had always seemed like an obligation. Not with Maura. Jane realized that for all those years she just hadn't been kissing the right people. The warmth of lips and the electricity of the touch weren't localized; Jane felt a stirring current everywhere and every time. There were words in those moments that voice could ever convey.

"Remember the first time I brought you here?" Jane asked as Maura nodded. "And you recited some other poem and talked about winter as a metaphor…as an opportunity for truth when everything is stripped down to its most basic parts that's when we have the ability to see what's in front of us."

Maura chuckled and smiled, "I can't believe you remember that."

_I remember everything you say._ Now, it was Jane's turn to look up at the sky, darkening as the sun faded. "This will always be my favorite winter." Her eyes fell on the smile of the woman in her arms and Jane stole one last kiss. "Playoffs start in a few weeks…we should probably actually practice some."

* * *

><p>Heat. It was nice counter to the icy black that had descended when the sun finally set. Jane thought it might be nice if winter lasted forever. Spare moments when they presented themselves spent under a blanket in front of Maura's fireplace, hockey, and shared hot showers after a practice in the open air.<p>

Jane smirked and hummed as she kissed and sucked at the wet skin under Maura's ear. She smelled like honey and flowers where the body wash had just been lathered and rinsed away.

"What?" Maura asked breathily as her hands gripped Jane's back and ass encouraging the slow and tantalizing role of Jane's hips as she was backed into the shower wall.

"I was thinking we should always shower together," Jane licked her lips and pulled the shower head down, sliding it between them and positioning the pulsating bursts of water between Maura's legs.

Maura's eyes fluttered as she arched towards the new sensation; the water beckoned her closer. "Why's…that?" She struggled to get out, the pleasure building as the stream massaged and lapped at her arousal.

It was hard not to grin. Jane loved the opportunity just to watch and she could do that now, just letting the pressure and vibrating strokes of the water do the work for her. Maura closed her eyes, her mouth slightly open as she took quick and shallow breaths, holding them for a moment before releasing them to gasp for others. "Eco-conscious," Jane replied, "saves water."

Eyes opening slowly and seductively, Maura licked her lips and smiled as she stared Jane in the eye. She arched and rolled her hips more fervently towards the showerhead as she pulled Jane's free hand to one of her breasts. Knowing fingers rolled over a pert and slick nipple, teasing it to full erection. Maura moaned, eyes struggling to stay open as she watched Jane watch her. "I'm…not sure…this is really saving water, Jane."

"Would you like me to stop?" Jane began to pull the showerhead away.

Maura's hand grabbed her wrist and pulled it back as she shook her head, wet hair fanning out and plastering itself to the white wall behind her. She gasped, fingers tightening around the wrist still in her grasp as she came.

"I love you," Jane whispered into her ear, kissing her neck and reveling in the wave of trembles she could feel roll through the body pressed against her.

* * *

><p>"Dammit," Jane muttered as she gave her hair one last ruffle with the towel and tossed it towards the hamper. Joe's shrill barks sliced through the house as Jane jumped on one foot pulling the tight rubber boot over her foot and sweat pants. "I'm coming! I'm coming!"<p>

Maura switched off the hair dryer and peered out from the bathroom, "Is that Joe?"

"Yeah, she must want to go out. I'll be right back."

How quickly everything can come crashing down. Perhaps winter was cruel after all. Just the sight of him sucked all the air from her lungs and all of the feelings of happiness at last ripped through her chest with mocking laughter. _You knew…you knew this could happen._

"Ian…" Jane stood frozen at the entrance to the living room, watching as the almost stranger gave her dog one last pat and then stood.

"Hello, Jane." He smiled a smile of complete obliviousness. "When did Maura get a dog?"

"She's my dog," Jane replied coldly. He was standing now, a bag behind him and trite pink roses wrapped in plastic on the table. "Calla lilies are her favorite," Jane glanced at the bouquet. _The Red Desire, variety to be exact_. Maura had told her once in passing. She had said Paris was covered in them at Easter time, mostly white ones, though as a child in boarding school there she'd scour the floral shops for colored ones. And the love of her life had brought pink roses.

"Umm," Ian laughed uncomfortably, noting Jane's distant and combative posture. It was to be expected, he thought, given his last parting…given that she was a cop, and he, at the time was essentially a fugitive.

"What are you doing here?" Jane asked gruffly

"First of all," Ian held up his hands with a placating smile, "I'm not here illegally. MSF helped me retain an attorney, a specialist in international law. I'm in the process of striking a plea. I'll be on probation, restricted travel…I'll have to pay a fine. That's why I'm here."

"To ask for money," Jane lobbed with vehemence.

"No," Ian laughed nervously. He began to wonder what Maura had told her best friend after he left. "To…be here."

Jane watched as he rooted around in his pocket, producing a small blue velvet bag. "I'm really glad you're here actually, Jane. You know Maura…well, better than her own parents probably. And it's not them whose approval I worry about anyway. I know I haven't been around but, I'm here now." He shook the ring into his hand and held it out. "It was my grandmother's, I know it's not big…will she like it?"

Jane glanced at the diamond, her worst nightmare. Suddenly, it wasn't anger that she was feeling, but the stabbing pang of sadness and loss. That happiness from only hours ago wasn't just slipping it away. It felt like the universe was tearing it from her with reckless abandon, as if she never deserved it at all. Air. She needed it. The cold would calm her, clear her head and patch the dam. Ian didn't deserve her tears. And Maura…this was a play Maura had to make on her own.

"She's in the bedroom," Jane rushed past him, out the front door and into familiar cold.

* * *

><p>In the hallway, Ian took another look at the ring, slipped it back into the tiny bag and pushed it down into his pocket. "Maura?" He called out as he peeked in the bedroom.<p>

Cautiously and questioningly Maura emerged from the bathroom. The familiar voice had caught her ear. Confusion set in. It couldn't be. But, when she stepped into the room, it wasn't a trick or a figment of her imagination. It was Ian. In the flesh. A wide smile stretched across his face and a twinkle in his eye.

His eyes roamed over her, from the tattered hockey jersey that hung just short of mid-thigh, down her toned legs and back up. He gave a little laugh, "What are you wearing?"

Maura cocked her head, the fact that he had spoken just registering. She tugged at the jersey, as if it were shrinking, exposing her beyond comfort. Joe Friday trotted into the room, tongue hanging out, tail wagging. _Jane._ "Jane…where's Jane?"

Life. The numbness that had seized her when he spoke her name was shocked away. The breath she took after saying Jane's name made her heart beat again. Not just beat…pound with an overwhelming force that threatened to drop her to her knees. Maura grabbed her chest and pushed her way past him, into the hallway and towards the living room. "Jane?"

Empty.

The door was ajar. A raw breeze crawled through and caught every inch of Maura's exposed skin and dragged across it with icy fingers that pulled her out into its complete embrace. The freeze barely registered as her racing heart pumped fiery blood through her veins. "Jane!" Maura screamed as she stepped into the nighttime flurry. She trotted down the walk barefoot, the cold crunch of the accumulating snow beneath her feet.

"Jane!" She yelled more desperately as she ran towards the form standing in the driveway. Jane turned and caught her on the slide as she tried to stop. "Don't go! Please! You…You…always you." She choked out, tears streaming but wiped away by the night breeze.

Jane sniffled and smiled, pulling Maura in closer, "I just needed some air. Needed to let you talk to him. Let him tell you why he's here without me there. I've run away from too many things. Running away from you now wasn't an option."

Maura's lip trembled as her hands cupped Jane's face, "I don't care why he's here. I only know that a few minutes ago I thought the true love of my life had walked out the door."

"Never," Jane shook her head as she stilled Maura's trembling lip with a kiss, "I wouldn't leave you."

"Jane…"

"Yeah?" Jane asked, reluctantly pulling away from another kiss.

"I'm freezing."

Jane finally looked down, "Jesus!" She hoisted Maura into her arms, smiling as legs and arms wrapped and locked around her.

Ian stood where the walk met the driveway and stepped aside as Jane carried Maura back in the house. He paused and then followed them, his fingers squeezing the ring inside his pocket. _Too late._

Their eyes met as he entered, his and Maura's. Jane had her wrapped in a blanket on the sofa and was massaging the stiffening cold from her feet.

"I…seem to have missed some developments while I was gone," he said despondently. He sat in the chair across from them, rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together.

"The last time…" Maura began, pausing to withdraw her feet from Jane's touch; she tucked her legs underneath her and settled into Jane's side. "I told you I couldn't wait forever. To be honest…I shouldn't have waited for as long as I did. Why are you here, Ian?"

"I'm here because I love you, Maura. I thought you loved me too."

She could feel Jane tense, could feel the question on the tip of her tongue. "No," she whispered, locking eyes with the woman next to her, "I want you right here."

Maura turned her attention back to Ian. "I was in love with…the idea of you. With…what we had…what I thought we had the once or twice a year we were together. Because, for years I didn't love myself enough to think that I deserved to be loved by someone who wanted to be with me all the time. Someone that would risk everything that was most dear to them to be with me. I'm in love with Jane, not because she happened to be here and you weren't. Because…" she paused and reached out to run a soft hand down Jane's cheek, "…I'm alive when I'm with her. And because she makes me whole and because I'm a better person with her. It's different because…" Maura was speaking completely to Jane then, "I could never let you leave like I let him leave over and over again. That's how I know you're the love of my life."

"I…wish it were me," Ian reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key Maura had given him the last time and set it on the table between them. "So many things I should have done differently…" He picked up his bag and then the bouquet of roses. "I didn't even know…that your favorite flower was the calla lily."

Shrugging out from under the blanket, Maura approached him and reached for his hand. "I don't regret my time with you Ian. All those years are a part of me. We shared some amazing things and you taught me a great deal about who I am and who I can be." She lifted up on her tiptoes and pulled his face down to place a parting kiss on his cheek. "And a part of me will always love you as my oldest friend…and for the caring and compassionate man that you are."

He managed a smile and a nod and then walked back to Jane and extended his hand, "You're very lucky."

Jane accepted the gesture, "I know."

* * *

><p>"He was going to ask you to marry him," Jane revealed as she slid under the covers.<p>

Maura nestled into her side and claimed her lips, "Do you think that would have mattered?" she whispered, resting her forehead against Jane's.

"No."

"How do you feel?" Maura settled under the drape of Jane's arm and rested her head on her chest, smiling as she felt the steady heartbeat beneath tap out a relaxed cadence.

"Relieved."

"Even after all these months, you still thought I might choose him?" Maura propped herself up on an elbow and looked in Jane's eyes.

"After everything in my life and after everything we've been through together; the thought of losing you, is the only thing that scares me anymore."

Maura peppered Jane's face with reassuring kisses, "You'll never lose me."


	18. In the Cards

**CH 18: In the Cards**

Disarray. Angela sat in the center of a circle of boxes. There was no telling where Frank had stored them all these months but it had been somewhere damp. Several of the boxes sagged, their weakened sides threatening to burst and spill their contents. The few she had opened indicated no care had been taken in their handling either. The contents were jumbled and tossed. She figured it would take the better part of the entire day to sort through them all, take out what she wanted, repack the rest and toss anything not salvageable from the water damage.

Angela turned as Maura knocked lightly on the door and poked her head in. "Are those the boxes you wanted from Frank?"

"Come in, come in," Angela waved and patted the floor next to her. "They're a mess! Frank never was sentimental about keepsakes, but I had hoped he would have taken a little more care with them."

Maura reached for a box of photo albums. She and Angela both winced as they pulled apart a stack of loose photos, melted together from the water. The albums were in relatively good shape; the heavy leather binding and sheet protectors had guarded the decades-old photos in their keep. Maura flipped through one, giggling at photo after photo of a young Jane with her brothers.

"She was eight there," Angela pointed to a toothy-grinned picture of Jane with cannoli cream smeared across her face. "My mother made the best cannoli. At the family reunion that year all the kids decided to have a cannoli eating contest," Angela laughed and shook her head as she recollected the debacle.

"Did she win?" Maura pulled the picture out of the album to take a better look, smiling at the familiar eyes and impish smile that shined back.

"Of course she won," Angela chuckled, "You've seen Jane eat."

"I, for the life of me, don't know where she puts it," Maura smiled.

Angela arched her eyebrows, "She gets that appetite from her father's side."

"I wish…" Maura paused, that telltale glimmer of sadness and regret that Angela and Jane had become used to flashing across her face whenever she reflected on what her childhood had lacked. "…I wish my mother had pictures like this of me."

"Oh, sweetheart," Angela's arm settled around Maura's shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze, "Of course she does."

Maura shook her head. "A few photos from dance recitals or fencing competitions, but, nothing like this. I don't remember candid photos like this ever being taken." She started to slide the photo back in its sleeve but Angela stopped her.

"You keep that picture." Maura began to protest but Angela waved it off, "Future blackmail," she said with a wink.

The next box gave Angela pause. She didn't even bother to hide the tears that welled up behind her eyes as she pulled out the long lace veil. "My wedding veil."

"It's beautiful," Maura took the delicate fabric and ran her fingers across the handmade garment. She held it up, looking closely, "Venetian point, Burano lace?"

"You do know everything," Angela smiled. "When I got married I thought, one day I'll have a daughter and she'll wear this at her wedding. But, it's not really Jane's style. Sometimes I think I'd be lucky just to get her in a dress."

"She'll wear a dress," Maura blurted out nonchalantly, she looked away from Angela and down at the lace in her lap.

"Have you two talked about…"

"Oh! No," Maura shook her head, as she laughed nervously. "No…we haven't talked about…that. It's…this…we're still…"

Angela laughed at Maura's nervous chatter and took the veil from her and draped it across her head, "I think it would look better on you than Jane anyway."

Maura watched out of the corner of her eye as the lace slid down and off her shoulder. Angela folded it and placed it inside a plastic bag before continuing to root through the box, clasping her hand to her mouth with a gasp as she pulled out a small ring box. The domed cabochon cut sapphire sat in a simple gold setting. "I thought I had lost it!" Angela held the ring up, "Or rather, that Frank had hocked it."

"It's lovely," Maura couldn't help but smile as Angela's face beamed at the discovery.

"Grandfather's mother gave this ring to my grandmother when she joined the family. And she gave it to my mother. And my mother gave it to me, to give to the next woman who joins the family."

"Whoever Frankie or Tommy marry will be very lucky to receive it," Maura smiled and reached for the next box.

"No," Angela grabbed Maura's wrist and pulled her hand towards her. "I want you to have it."

"Angela," Maura protested, "I couldn't possibly…"

Angela ignored her and slipped the ring on her right ring finger, "See. Perfect fit." She paused as Maura admired the gift and watched as the young woman reached to wipe a trickle of tears from her cheek.

Maura sniffled and looked into Angela's eyes, "I was so used to being alone, to only having a family when it was convenient for them…"

The elder Rizzoli wished the hug she wrapped Maura up in could fill the void of all the previous ones she'd never been given, "You're as good as a Rizzoli now. And you'll never be alone."

"I haven't told my mother yet," Maura whispered into Angela's neck as she soaked up the embrace. "After all these years, it seems like we're just starting to find each other…and…I'm afraid…"

"That she'll react like I did…" Angela was sure she would carry the guilt of that night and the following weeks for a long time. Sometimes she wondered if it would be forever. She had done what she swore she would never do: she walked out on one of her children. Even though she had come back, even though she had found peace within herself regarding Jane and Maura's relationship, she had abandoned her child and she regretted it deeply.

"Worse," Maura said, pulling back and wiping her eyes, "I knew you would come around. Your relationship with your children, I just knew that my love for Jane and hers for me couldn't break that. I didn't know how long it would take, but I knew that you wouldn't forsake Jane…us."

Angela reached out and tucked Maura's hair back behind her ear, "Constance won't either."

"Image is so important to her…"

Angela sighed and cupped Maura's face in her hands, waiting until Maura could lift her eyes to look at her directly, "You…are important to her. She doesn't love you any less than I love Jane, Frankie and Tommy. She just never showed it the same way. You said yourself that she's been trying. She'll keep trying. I'm a mother; I know these things."

* * *

><p>"Picking at that dessert doesn't make it any less not eaten," Jane laughed, watching as Maura pushed bits of cake around her plate with her fork. Triple-white chocolate fudge raspberry swirl, something or other. The name had practically taken up two lines on the menu and now Maura was for all intents and purposes performing an autopsy on it.<p>

Maura smiled and set her fork down, "I'm full."

"No, you're upset about something and you think I'm going to let you get away with not telling me," Jane arched an eyebrow and followed Maura's line of sight to the swanky restaurant's dance floor. Couples were parading to and from the small area in between their entrees and desserts and between their desserts and after dinner drinks.

"I told my mother about us…" Maura fidgeted with the napkin in her lap and finally folded it and laid it on the table. "She told me it was unacceptable."

Jane reached across their tiny corner table and placed her hands over Maura's, "She'll come around. I'll go talk to her, alone, with you, whatever you want."

The sapphire ring caught the light of the table candles as Maura withdrew her hands. She fingered the ring, adjusting it. "She's not like your mother."

The ring was familiar looking, but Jane couldn't quite recall where she had seen it before. "Image is a lot easier to overcome than supposedly being damned by God. You trust me?"

Maura smiled and nodded, "Of course. With everything."

"Then, come dance with me so we can enjoy the rest of our date and trust me that your mother will come around…just like mine did. And as much as it hurts in the meantime, you have me, Frankie and Tommy, and Ma. You will never be without a family." Jane slid out of the booth and reached her hand out, catching Maura off guard as she jerked her quickly into her arms, "For as long as I draw breath on this planet, do you understand me? You're never going to be alone again, Maura."

* * *

><p>The band was playing a jazzy tune, not too quick but not slow. Women smiled and laughed as their men guided them across the floor with an occasional twirl or dip. Jane wished she hadn't worn heels now, it had been long enough since she'd danced with a partner, not to mention that she'd never taken the lead, without having to worry about tripping over uncomfortable shoes. But, she had shimmied into that tight black dress that Maura loved so much and slipped on a pair of heels that would have made her tower over her date if Maura hadn't donned shoes of equally ridiculous height. Sometimes the juxtaposition made her laugh, here she was, all dolled up with her hair and makeup done, in a form-fitting, short, sexy dress with stilettos on; and, the day after tomorrow Maura would be slipping on pads and a jersey for the first league playoff game.<p>

"Don't laugh at me if I fall in these shoes," she said with a wink as she took Maura's right hand in her left and let her left hand settle on Maura's hip.

"I can't make that promise," Maura winked, letting Jane ease her slowly into rhythmic steps. Soon, they found a comfortable pattern and settled into the music. "You never told me you could dance."

"Pop taught me. Well, Ma made him. Dancing lesson and then we could go play softball or football in the yard." Those were the memories of her pop Jane tried to conjure when her recent anger at him over the past few months began to fester. It was difficult, when she wanted to be mad and ignore his calls, to remind herself that he was still her father and that whatever happened between him and her mother didn't change that he loved her and that she loved him.

Jane could feel the ring on Maura's finger in her grasp and suddenly it came to her, "Ma used to wear this ring…"

Maura nodded, "She gave it to me when I helped her sort through those boxes a few days ago. She…" the memory of that moment still brought a tear to her eye but Maura wrestled it away, "…she said it was to welcome me to the family."

Jane pulled Maura's hand to her lips and kissed the ring as she wrapped her arm further around her girlfriend's waist as the music slowed. Angela had come around. Deep down, she knew that Constance would too.

Image. Her mother had planted that uncomfortable seed in her head and Maura couldn't seem to shake it. "People are staring at us."

Glancing around, Jane noticed a few pairs of eyes dart away when confronted. "Let 'em stare." Jane eased them closer together and let her cheek settle against Maura's. "You're beautiful, of course they're staring."

Maura chuckled, "If anyone had told me months ago how romantic you are, I wouldn't have believed them."

"I should be offended," Jane smiled, turning her head to kiss Maura on the cheek, "But, I kind of like it that you're surprised."

They stayed on the dance floor until they were the last couple remaining. The restaurant had emptied of most of its patrons save for a few rowdy gentlemen at the bar. The sound of plates and silverware clinking as tables were cleared began to overtake the increasingly softening music of the small band. Jane stopped, looked over at the musicians with a smile and nodded. Maura was loose and relaxed in her arms and she was suddenly acutely aware that they couldn't stay like this all night. She kissed Maura's temple and stroked her hair, lifting her chin to place a tender but chaste kiss on her lips.

"Thank you," Maura whispered as Jane's lips moved slowly away. "I'm sorry I was so mopey earlier. Maybe we can ask my mother to have lunch with us next week."

"Anything you want," Jane smiled as she took Maura's hand.

* * *

><p>The streets were practically empty, the lamps casting a glassy glow on the melting snow and ice. It was the ugly part of winter. The snow was stained black and grey from car exhaust, muddy in most places from the salt and sand trucks, and the smell was no longer the crisp refreshing tingle of new precipitation but rather the stale and dank odor of that which had hung around too long.<p>

Maura stared out the window as Jane drove, watching the street signs blur past as they made their way to Beacon Hill. They spent the nights at her place now more often than not and the Sundays for family dinner as well. _You will never be without a family._ Maura smiled and reached for Jane's hand, pulling it into her lap and clasping it tightly.

"Don't fall asleep, almost home," Jane glanced at her and smiled.

_Almost home. Home_. Jane called her house home and she realized then that she too called Jane's apartment home. She'd never done that before, never called her significant other's residence her home. Jane was her home, wherever they were.

The ominous and dramatic aria slipped out of the car's speakers almost unnoticed. Maura cocked her head and reached for the volume to turn it up. "En vain pour éviter," Maura said softly, her perfectly trained French accent causing Jane to smile.

_En vain pour éviter les réponses amères, _

_En vain tu mêleras,_

_Cela ne sert à rien, les cartes sont sincères _

_Et ne mentiront pas !_

_Dans le livre d'en haut si ta page est heureuse, _

_Mêle et coupe sans peur,_

_La carte sous tes doigts se tournera joyeuse, _

_T'annonçant le bonheur._

_Mais si tu dois mourir, si le mot redoubtable_

_Est écrit par le sort,_

_Recommence vingt fois, la carte impitoyable _

_Répétera : la mort !_

_Encore ! Encore ! Toujours la mort ! _

_Encore ! De désespoir ! _

_Toujours la mort !_

_In vain in order to avoid harsh remarks, _

_In vain you shuffle, _

_That settles nothing, the cards are sincere _

_and won't lie!_

_In the book on high if your page is happy,_

_Shuffle and cut without fear _

_The card under your fingers will turn itself up happily _

_Announcing its good luck._

_But if you must die, if the dreaded word _

_Is written by fate, _

_Try again 20 times, the pitiless card_

_[will say] again : death!_

_Again! Again! Always death!_

_Again! Despair! _

_Always death!_

"What's that?"

"The card aria, from Carmen. Carmen reads her fortune in the cards and they tell her death. She's convinced that the cards never lie and that her demise must be inevitable."

Jane's brow furrowed as she listened, "I don't believe in that…fortune telling and the like…the events of your life being predetermined."

"You don't think us getting together was fate?" Maura jabbed.

"No," Jane countered assuredly, "this was hard fought."

"Yes, it was," Maura conceded, "You seem to like this opera most of all. We should see it again. It…feels like…ours now. You did make sure our opera tickets in a couple of weeks don't interfere with a playoff game, right?"

Jane laughed, "I triple checked. We have to win the game on Sunday first. But, no there's no game scheduled that night."

"Good," Maura smiled relieved and gave Jane's hand another squeeze, "I'd hate to…" She looked out the passenger's side window at the oncoming headlights that filled her vision, "JA…!"


	19. Waking Dream

**CH 19: Waking Dream**

Dark. It was an icy darkness that seeped through her clothes and into her skin, wrapping around her arms and chest like a vice. It was so cold. She didn't remember being outside. Cold, so cold, except for her face, that was warm. A hot, thick trickle snaked down from her brow, over her eye and pooled heavily on her eyelashes. It dribbled further, cresting over her upper lip: metal, it tasted like metal…like copper pennies. It wasn't right, whatever it was: the darkness, the cold, the warmth, the taste…none of it was right.

"Wakeup," Jane muttered to herself, sputtering through the slick liquid that was on her mouth and in it, "just a dream."

The aria was playing, broken and stilted, skipping and screeching every few words. The cacophony became maddening: music, shouting, and off in the distance the wail of sirens. Pounding, now there was pounding, _Ma'am…Ma'am can you open the door? _She didn't like this dream; she wanted to wake up.

The piercing sound of glass shattering drew Jane out of her delirium. The world was moving, as if on a see-saw, she strained to make sense of it, to will it to settle. Nothing had shape; it was a blur of moving light on a pitch-black background. She lurched forward but something immobilized her. The seatbelt caught and held her tightly to the seat. Jane tried to lift her legs, they too met with restraint, something was all around her. _Walls? A box?_ She moved her legs again, felt the gas pedal and brake with her foot, lifted her knees and again felt them pound into something…_steering wheel._

"Ma'am, the paramedics are on their way."

That voice again. She slowly turned her head. Her door was open; there was a man with hands like ice as he reached to still her head. His touch was frigid and wet; she wanted to pull away from him but she couldn't move.

"Try to stay still."

Jane closed her eyes. Maura's hand in her hand, her hand on Maura's hip, Maura's cheek on her shoulder as they swayed to the music. _We're almost home_. Her eyes flashed open, "Maura," Jane gasped, now she remembered. _I'm in the car…we're in the car_. Fumbling for the belt release she fought the restraint.

"Ma'am, ma'am, you need to stay still."

"Maura, Maura…" Jane panted, hot tears welling up behind her eyes and obscuring her vision further. "Maura, say something!"

"Ma'am…I…I think she's dead."

She screamed. No words. Just screamed.

"Oh my God, Jane!" Marcie pushed the bystander away and leaned into the car.

Jane slapped at her hands, fighting the pain in her head and neck to look towards the passenger's seat. "Maura! Maura!" She looked back, towards the familiar voice that was saying her name, recognition of the person looking back at her registering. "Help her. Help her. Help her." Over and over. "Help her." Her breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding in her ears as the EMTs pulled Maura from the car. She couldn't see her. Jane thrashed wildly against the seat belt. "Maura!"

From the flash of a gurney streaking towards a waiting ambulance Jane could hear Marcie call out, "We've got a pulse!"

* * *

><p>The bright lights of the hospital ER were blinding. If the world wasn't spinning out of control it was being erased in a sea of white, bubbling up in the center and spreading out like a strip of film on fire. Everything was crumbling. It was all being taken away. She couldn't see straight, the voices were a jumble, her body felt like lead, and Maura…<p>

"Maura…" Jane surged forward on the gurney into waiting hands that pushed her forcefully back down.

"Jane! Jane, listen to me, it's Marcie…you have got to calm down…"

"I…need to be with Maura," she opened her eyes and could barely make out the blur of her teammate's face.

"You can't right now, Jane. You have to let these doctors take care of you and Maura's doctors take care of her…if you keep fighting, they're going to sedate you." Marcie's hands tightened on her shoulders, pinning her to the gurney until she felt the body in her grasp relax.

"Marcie…" the sob lodged in her throat, it felt like drowning on air. Every fiber of her body seized and tightened out of desire to hold Maura's hand…just one more time. Tears burned the corners of her eyes and rolled down her face until they seeped into the pillow under her head. "How bad?"

A crushing look settled on Marcie's face. "Jane…"

"Tell me," Jane pleaded.

Marcie reached for her hand and squeezed it to her chest, "I think you should pray, Jane. I think you should pray."

* * *

><p>The touch was familiar. Fingers, running through her hair, the slight pull as they threaded through mats and made her scalp tingle. Soft hands, caressing her face, and then a damp, cool cloth streaked across her brow.<p>

Jane fought to open her eyes. She pursed her lips and struggled against nausea and the lingering disorientation until slowly her seemingly weighted lids opened just enough… "Ma," she whispered.

The room was a dusky grey as it filled with the early morning light. Jane licked her lips and swallowed; her mouth felt like sand. It was a sickening feeling; she'd felt it before. She'd awakened like this before.

"Here…" Frankie handed Angela a cup with a straw and she held it to Jane's lips, "Take a drink. Do you remember what happened last night?"

Jane glanced towards the window. _Last night. Last. Night._ "Maura!" She struggled to sit up, swaying into her mother's arms with a pained moan.

Angela's arms wrapped around her and held her close, resuming her comforting strokes through Jane's hair she hushed in her daughter's ear as she rocked her slightly. It didn't matter if Jane was three, or thirty-six; she was still her baby. "The doctors say you have a moderate concussion, but otherwise you were very lucky," she tried feebly to change the subject.

Jane's fingers flexed into Angela's back as her nose crinkled and her will again proved powerless against a fresh onslaught of tears, "Ma…where's Maura?"

Slowly, Angela eased Jane back out of her arms and cupped her bruised face. Whatever Jane had hit her head on had left a jagged laceration on her brow and deep blue and purple bruising that was working its way down her face. "She's in the neurological intensive care unit…"

"Quit trying to shelter me, Ma!" Jane lashed out, grabbing her mother's hands and pushing them away.

Angela sniffled and wiped at the tears that were now streaking her own face. She'd seen Jane physically hurt too many times; yet, her daughter had always battled through that kind of pain. Sure, she'd bitched and moaned, thrown herself a little pity party now and then, but for the most part she soldiered through. Her will and her body were strong. This was different. Angela could tell in the way Jane's lip tremble as she pleaded for more information, in the sadness in her eyes, that the emotional toll this would take would be unlike any trial she had ever faced. And if Maura died…Angela couldn't bring herself to contemplate how she would ever put Jane back together.

"I'm not," Angela said softly, reaching for Jane's hand, feeling the raised scar on her palm beneath her thumb. "That's all I know."

"Then, take me to her," Jane teetered at the edge of the bed as she tried to find her bearings to stand.

Now, Frankie was in front of her, his hands on her shoulders trying to push her back. He looked at his mother, saw the emotion overcoming her and knew that he would have to be the one. "We can't take you to her, Janie. Constance…won't allow it."

* * *

><p>The lights and blips of the monitors were almost mesmerizing. Constance Isles rubbed at her eyes and watched the lines slowly streak, rising and falling across the screen. She had stared at the numbers all night, terrified that if she fell asleep they would change…for better or worse, that she would miss something. "Oh, darling," she reached out and let her hand rest softly on Maura's chest as the respirator forced it to rise and fall in a steady rhythm. Bandages covered half of her brow, part of her head, her temple and down to her cheek. The doctors had relayed the paramedics' report that her head had shattered the passenger's window on impact. She was scared to see what it looked like under the white gauze…what it would look like if the intracranial pressure didn't decline.<p>

So many terms had been thrown at her, terms and numbers; she could barely make sense of it all. She didn't want to understand all of it. Understanding all of it was a dark unfathomable place. Constance was confident she had gotten the gist of it: cerebral edema from the head trauma was causing elevated pressure as the brain only had so much room to swell inside Maura's skull. If the pressure wasn't alleviated it could herniate and restrict blood flow to the brain. There was a scale; she didn't deign to claim she understood how it was calculated, only that the doctors said Maura needed to be under 20. The number on the screen held steady at 25. If the pressure didn't drop, Constance shuddered as she recalled the doctor's explanation, they could try a craniotomy by drilling holes into her skull to remove the intracranial hematomas and relieve the pressure. If the number were to rise…Constance took a deep breath and shook her head, the doctors had said a decompressive craniotomy might be necessary – they would have to remove part of her skull.

* * *

><p>The doctors hadn't seen a reason to keep her beyond that afternoon. Her concussive symptoms were easing; there was nothing else wrong with her. As she neared the automatic doors of the hospital, Jane clenched her jaw and reached for the brake on the wheel chair and threw it forward. Frankie took the point of the handle right in the gut as the chair came to an abrupt halt.<p>

"I'm not leaving," Jane announced.

"Jane," Angela put her hand on her shoulder, "You've been discharged."

Jane reversed the chair, barely missing Frankie's foot as she wheeled herself back to the elevator, "I'm not leaving her here." She reached up to wipe a tear. It was starting to infuriate her, the crying. Crying wasn't helping her or Maura. "I promised her, I promised her she wouldn't be alone."

Angela knelt next to her and clasped Jane's hand, bringing it to her lips and pressing them to the back of her daughter's palm. "She's not alone Jane. Constance is there."

"It's not the same, Ma. It's not the same and you know it's not the same. She needs me. I need to be with her…" Jane reached up and mashed the elevator button repetitively. "She has to let me see her. Maura would want me there. She has to know that. Where has Constance been the past four years?" The anger began to well up inside her. "Tell me? Where has she been? Not here. Not with her daughter. It's been me; I'm the one that's been there."

"I know," Angela whispered.

The doors opened slowly and Jane barreled forward, paying no mind to the nurses and other people trying to exit. "What floor?"

"Jane," Angela began to protest.

"Press the button, Ma."

* * *

><p>Her heart pounded as she waited in the hallway for the nurse to return with Constance. She wrung her hands together and tried to regulate her breathing. She wanted to pace, walk out the nerves, but even standing to get into the wheelchair had been a little dizzying and the more nervous she got about seeing Maura's mother the more lightheaded she began to feel.<p>

Constance walked slowly down the hallway towards her, arms folded across her chest, "What do you want?" She looked as unkempt as Jane had ever seen her, no makeup, swollen eyes, and messy hair. Her voice was cold as she came to a stop several feet away.

"Constance," Jane's voice cracked as she tried to speak and tame the simmering emotions. She wanted to cry but she also wanted to scream, to tell the woman in front of her that she had no business barring her from the woman she loved. But, she knew that in fact it was Constance's business and if Maura was unconscious that Constance had every right to dictate the terms of her visitors. She'd never felt like less than only being Maura's girlfriend in the moment when she needed to be more in order to see her. _You catch more flies with honey_. "Please." It was all she could manage as the tears trickled out and her body began to tremble. "Please."

The mountain in front of her was unmoved. "Constance…please," Jane was wracked with sobs. "I know…Maura and I…this is new to you. But, we love each other. She would want me with her. If only one person is allowed, I won't stay long…just, let me see her, once an hour, even every couple of hours. Whatever you'll agree to, I'll take anything." Jane wasn't accustomed to begging, but if it would get her to Maura, she would fall to her knees in front of Constance.

"I don't want you…anywhere near my daughter," Constance straightened her shoulders, turned, and headed back to Maura's room.

Angela's arm snaked around Jane from behind as she pressed their cheeks together, "Baby, let me take you home now."

Jane shook her head resolutely, "What if…" the pain of the thought was almost too much to bear. "What if…she dies, Ma?" Jane grabbed her stomach and doubled over to stymie the impending urge to vomit. "What if I'm not there? I promised her I'd always be there."

* * *

><p>The waiting room sofa was hard and scratchy, almost as if it was upholstered with burlap. Yet, the concussion drew Jane unwillingly under despite the discomfort. When she awoke the afternoon had faded into evening and the last vestiges of sunlight were disappearing behind the buildings and still naked trees outside the window. She was the only one in the room. Vaguely, she remembered Angela mentioning going to get some dinner in the cafeteria with Frankie and Korsak.<p>

In the silent and still hallway, the same nurse seemed to pass by the door several times. Young, petite, and blonde, on her third trip past she stopped, looked at Jane and then down the hall in either direction before stepping in.

Jane slowly pushed herself into a sitting position, watching as the nurse took a seat next to her.

"I could lose my job for this," she said. "I'm on the neuro ward…and I'm a friend of Marcie's."

Frantically, Jane reached for the girl, her fingers latching around a delicate forearm. "Please, is she ok? Is she going to be ok?"

There was pity in the girl's eyes, Lorna it said on her nametag, pity and understanding. _She's probably seen this before_, Jane thought, _petty ignorance and people feuding while a loved on slips away_.

Lorna placed her hand over Jane's, "She has cracked ribs on the impact side and a severely dislocated shoulder in addition to a fractured clavicle. The shoulder injury requires surgery but they can't even think about orthopedic surgery until the head trauma stabilizes. The massive head trauma is the primary concern. The intracranial pressure isn't rising but it's not decreasing either. Right now they're trying osmotherapy with IV mannitol to try and reduce the fluid in the intracranial space. However, they're not inclined to wait more than another 24 hours with no reduction in pressure before taking her in for a decompressive craniotomy. In that case…"

Jane waved her to stop, "They'll remove a part of her skull, I know, we had a homicide victim once…the doctors did that as a last resort…before she died."

"She's not conscious; but the neurologists here are excellent. She's getting the best care available."

Knowing something was a tiny comfort, but not as much as Jane had hoped. She had wanted the nurse to tell her it was no big deal, that everyone was making a mountain out of a molehill. It was all just a precaution. That Maura would wake up any minute and life would go on. But it wasn't like that. It was the same nightmare, only she couldn't wake herself from it. Jane nodded, "Thank you…Lorna. Thank you. Why did you…"

The nurse squeezed Jane's hand and stood, "Because if it were me in there and someone was keeping my boyfriend from me, I would hope someone would reach out to him."


	20. Demons

**CH 20: Demons**

Sleep wasn't an option. Anything could happen. Maura could wake up…or slip away. The second thought was almost unfathomable, a mother's worst nightmare. So, Constance had stayed awake all night again, sitting on the edge of Maura's bed while she held her hand and kept her eyes trained on the monitors. She'd caught herself dozing once or twice. The longest she had drifted away was an hour and the guilt streaked through her when she noticed the elapsed time.

Maura's vitals hadn't changed. The emotions were almost overwhelmingly conflicting; she was grateful they hadn't worsened but was growing angrier and more terrified that they weren't improving. And through it all, she'd never felt more alone. The university hadn't yet been able to reach her husband who was with a group of students abroad in Russia and Central Asia for the semester. The Fulbright contact said he likely didn't have internet or phone access on site. They would have to reach out to the project liaison with Baku State University to locate him. If her husband was there they could at least take turns sleeping and keeping vigil. There would at least be someone else there to be the strong one. Then, she could really cry.

Constance leaned over Maura and kissed her forehead, "You have to wake up. You have to get better. I haven't been the best mother; I know that. I took having you in my life for granted. I promise, I promise that will change. We're going to spend more time together. We can…go to art shows and to the theater. I have a show late in the spring at the Musée National Des Beaux-Arts Du Québec; you should take vacation and come for the week. You don't get to use your French much here in Boston."

The monotonous blips of the machines droned on. The neurologist and nursing team came in to check on Maura for the morning. Constance shook her head and refused to process the timetable they laid out before the decision for the surgery would have to be made. "She's going to get better," she repeated to them. "She's very strong. She's going to get better."

And then they were gone and she was alone with Maura again. Constance smiled, remembering the first time she had been alone with her new daughter. "I never told you this story," she began, stroking Maura's cheek with her thumb. "The fall semester hadn't commenced so your father was home for the first couple of weeks. But, then he had to go back to campus to prep his courses. I'm not sure I had ever been so scared in my life as the morning he walked out the door and left me alone with you for the first time. I was panic-stricken that I would do something wrong. You were like this delicate porcelain doll and I was convinced I would break you."

A much needed chuckle swept through Constance as she reminisced on the early days of parenting. "Oh, my darling," she brought Maura's hand to her lips kissed it, "I guess all new mothers have that fear. Someday, you'll get married, and you and your husband will have a child and you'll have the same fears. You're going to be a much better mother than I was. I'll make it up to you; I promise. You have to wake up."

* * *

><p>Jane groaned as she awoke. Her head throbbed and everything still seemed hazy. Restless dreams plagued her subconscious: the screeching sound of twisting metal, frantic shouts, the smell of burning, and the taste of blood. She had awakened several times throughout the night, each time hoping that her eyes would flutter open to the sight of her bedroom or Maura's, that Maura would be curled into her side, mussed hair tickling at her neck like it often did when they wound up tangled in each other by morning. But, that wasn't what she awoke to. The waiting room was awash in neutrals, white, beige, and tan that glowed a muted gold in the low lamplight when the fluorescent overheads were turned off for the night.<p>

As she turned onto her side, her head rolling across her sleeping mother's leg that was serving as a pillow, Jane could feel the stiffness that had taken over her body and settled deep into her joints. She struggled to sit up, reaching for her neck to rub feebly at it. The discomfort was too pervasive; the pain was everywhere. Body. Mind. Heart.

"Sore?" Korsak whispered from the opposite sofa. Jane nodded. "It'll get better soon. You need to move around, work it out. You're very lucky, Jane. It could have been much worse."

Jane's head hung as she processed the words. _Lucky_. "This doesn't feel lucky. I wish it were me."

Korsak stood and helped her to her feet, "But, it's not, and all we can do is wait. Come on, let's go get some coffee while your Mom and Frankie are still asleep."

They walked slowly and silently to the elevator, the heavy, quiet solemnity filling the metal box on the ride down the floors until they reached the cafeteria. Jane drowned herself in cup after cup of bitter, black, hospital coffee. If she couldn't sleep worth a damn, she figured she might as well be wide awake. The breakfast Korsak had bought her she left untouched.

He'd seen Jane Rizzoli through a lot of painful ordeals, physical and emotional: the legal issues with Tommy, her parents' separation, and perhaps the worst of them all – the brushes with Hoyt. Through all of those trials there had been tears, yelling fits of anger, lashing out, withdrawal, but never this…never such a disorienting silence.

Korsak pulled the half-drunk third cup from her hands and set it aside. His hands almost completely engulfed her own. "Jane, when she wakes up...when…she will ask for you. Of everyone in this world that I know, you're probably the strongest, the most bullheaded, the most determined. But, over these years that I've gotten to know Dr. Isles, I think she runs a pretty close second. Look at everything you two have been through together. She's never faltered. She's made it through, just like you have. Maura will wake up, Jane. And whether or not you have to sit it out in the waiting room or by her side, she needs you to believe that she will wake up."

* * *

><p>Ian strode quickly down the hallway of the hospital, wrapping Constance in a supportive embrace as she met him at the doors to the ICU. It didn't matter that Maura didn't want to be with him anymore, he still loved her. The fault was his that she had moved on; he knew that. He'd never put her first. He felt Constance cry into his shoulder and held her tighter.<p>

When they were in Africa together, he and Maura had talked about the potentialities of harm coming their way. It was almost a relief when she packed up and went back to Boston. The work they had been doing was gratifying, but it could also be dangerous. Civil wars and domestic rebellions in states with very little infrastructure to begin with rarely afforded sanctuary to those who were there to help. You worked in a war zone, even a post-war zone at your own risk. Doctors and nurses had died and been injured simply trying to offer care to the sick and wounded. They practiced with neutrality, but the doctor that saves the life of a rebel and allows him to fight another day becomes an enemy of the government and the doctor that saves the life of a government soldier becomes an enemy of the rebel.

In the Southern Sudan he was sure it would be Maura that would get the call of his demise. Peace agreements were sometimes about as useful in a conflict zone as the flimsy scrap of paper they were inked on. Even when the main forces respected the terms it could be nearly impossible to reign in all the fringe extremists. The forces from Khartoum and the legitimized forces of the autonomous South had no desire to try and neither the UN nor the African Union had the capacity. The Abyei District was a particularly heated zone, a lingering bone of contention between the governments of the north and south because of the oil resources. That was of course why they had gone there: to offer medical service to people who had become pawns in a game of territorial greed. The raid was on a Tuesday. He never knew which side the extremists were affiliated with. Only that when he woke up he had a concussion and a six inch laceration across his scalp. No one had died, miraculously, but the makeshift clinic was ransacked and all the supplies stolen.

Ian had seen far worse than what a car accident could do. Yet, he was still a human being. Growing used to the ravages of war did little to still the acceleration of his heartbeat when he saw her bandaged and unconscious. He stood at the foot of Maura's bed, ever the doctor, and read the chart before proceeding to her side.

"You should agree to the surgery," he took Maura's hand in his own and looked at Constance, "If there's no change by tomorrow."

Constance began to tear up, "They want to remove part of her skull." The words were barely a whisper, the radical nature of the surgery almost more than she could bear.

"Only temporarily," Ian assured her. "Her hair will grow back. She can cover the scars. It may be the only option." Suddenly, it struck him. He glanced around the room, "Where's Jane?"

The stiffening of Constance's posture was hard to miss. She closed her eyes and squared her shoulders, "In the waiting room most likely. She refuses to leave. I haven't allowed her back here."

His brow furrowed, "Why? Constance, Maura would want her here."

"But, I don't want her here," Constance fired back. "I…I can't deal with that right now. She only even told me a day before the accident. It's unacceptable. What will people think!"

"What does it matter?" Ian interjected. "They're in love with one another."

"She's in love with you. She always has been. She just didn't think you would ever come back. But, you have now. And when she wakes up and you're here she'll understand. She'll forget all about this silliness. It's loneliness, that's all it is." Constance walked up beside him and fidgeted with the blankets covering Maura, adjusting them and tucking them in tight around her.

"She'll never forgive you, Constance," Ian grabbed her wrist and took her hand. "I've seen them together. I wish she had just once looked at me the way she looked at Jane the night I went to propose to her. If she wakes up and you've forbidden Jane to be with her…I honestly don't think she'll ever forgive you."

Constance shook her head and wrenched her hand away, "She's my daughter. I may not have been the best mother, but I still know her."

His hand was light on her shoulder, "You've had an unimaginable thirty-six hours. Have you even eaten?"

"The nurses have brought me a few bites to eat."

"Constance," Ian turned her around and began to forcibly walk her towards the door. "Take a break. Go get some something to eat. Clear your mind. I'll be here; I'll stay with her. I'll call you immediately if anything change."

Constance lingered reluctantly at the door to the room, looking back over her shoulder towards Maura. "I don't want to leave her," she looked up into his eyes with a desperate sadness.

Ian opened the door, "As a doctor, trust me, nothing dramatic is likely to happen in one hour." With Constance gone he turned and looked at the woman he thought he would one day call his wife. He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his hands. _She's in love with you. She always has been. And when she wakes up and you're here she'll understand._ Ian wished that Constance knew Maura as well as she thought she did.

In his mind, there was really only one thing to do. Ian jogged down to the waiting room. Puffy, exhausted, and shocked eyes caught his as he walked in. "Jane…" he walked towards her, grabbing her under the arm and pulling her to her feet. "Jesus," he looked at the bruising that had traveled down her face from the laceration on her head. "You were in the accident too?"

Jane nodded, her nose scrunching as she tried to hold back the tears.

"Come on," he walked her towards the door, "We don't have much time."

* * *

><p>"Can she hear me?" Jane sat on the bed on Maura's left side and pressed her lips to Maura's cheek.<p>

"Many medical professionals believe so. Patients have reported remembering things loved ones have said when they came out of a coma." Ian watched as Jane gingerly stretched out along Maura's side. "I'll be in the hallway. I don't think you'll have more than an hour before Constance comes back."

When the door clicked shut behind him, Jane pulled Maura's hand to her chest, squeezing it as she pressed the back of her palm to her heart. "I'm here, Maura," she whispered, her lips brushing the shell of her love's ear as she spoke. "I love you. I may not be able to be here with you every minute. But, I'm here. Feel it. Feel me, here with you. You're strong, Maura. You're going to come out of this."

Jane closed her eyes and listened to the familiar whoosh of the respirator and the punctuating blips of the monitors. She kissed Maura's hand, running her fingers along the underside of Maura's forearm and up the side towards her wrist. One of the fingers in her grasp flinched.

"Maura…" Jane propped herself up and ran her other hand along the bandages on Maura's head before threading her fingers through the mess that was her hair. She winced as she felt the gritty remnants of blood from the crash. "Maura, can you hear me? I think you can. I'm just going to talk to you. It may just be rambling, but I'm going to talk anyway. Ummm…Tommy's staying at the house with Bass and Joe. I thought Bass would be more comfortable where he's familiar and you know Joe is happy wherever. And Tommy's really good with animals. I'm still looking forward to the opera. You're going to be fine by then. I think maybe I should get a new dress. The black one looks good, but I don't know, maybe something with some color? I'll let you pick it out and I won't complain…unless it's pink. Just…not pink. Marcie called. We won the playoff game this morning. She said everyone prayed for you before the game. We play again next weekend. You're going to be awake by then, maybe you'll even be discharged and we can go. I'll carry you out on the ice if I have to for the national anthem and then we'll sit on the bench and cheer for the team."

* * *

><p>Angela watched a haggard Constance Isles make her way through the cafeteria line and take a seat at a table across the large eating area. She knew what the other woman was going through, on so many different levels. No one knew better than she did. It wasn't in her nature to sit back and watch everyone around her hurt. They had developed a friendship, however small, when their daughters were just friends. Even if Constance didn't see her that way now, she would still have to see her as a fellow mother…and one at that who had sat in a hospital room wondering if her child would die.<p>

"May I join you?" Angela asked as she approached the table. Constance nodded and she took a seat. "How is she?"

Constance stared down at the plate of food and pushed the noodles around in her soup, "The same."

"How are you?" Her hand settled on Constance's wrist.

"I've been better," she set the spoon down and pushed the plate away. Her eyes were almost tortured as she regarded Angela, "How did you deal with it? When Jane was shot? How did you keep from just screaming and crying until they carted you off to the psychiatric ward?"

Angela smiled, "Oh, believe me, I did plenty of crying. I said words that would have had my mother rolling in her grave. I think I even cursed God. But, at the end of the day I found my comfort in family and in all the friends that were there because they loved Jane. All those days waiting for her to wake up…I couldn't have done it without them. Especially Maura. She's become like a daughter to me. Even before she and Jane took this step."

Constance pulled her hand away, "She's my daughter."

"No one's trying to replace you. But, she is in love with Jane and Jane is in love with her."

"I don't accept that," Constance shook her head, "She's been lonely, maybe confused." She paused, trying to determine what the look in Angela's eyes was. When she first sat down she thought perhaps it was pity or sympathy, now it looked more like disbelief or disdain. "Angela, I wouldn't have figured you for the type that would support this kind of relationship."

Angela stood, "I didn't at first. And I lost sight of something very important as a result of my own ignorance. I love my daughter…both of my daughters. And I support them and their happiness." She turned to leave but stopped, turning on her heel to face Constance once again. "Constance, I wouldn't have figured you for cruel."

* * *

><p>Ian checked his watch nervously before stepping back inside the room, "Jane, I don't think you have much more time. You should probably go back to the waiting room."<p>

"No." Jane answered resolutely as she peppered Maura's temple and cheek with soft kisses. "I'm not leaving."

He walked to the bedside, "She'll have you thrown…" Ian paused, looking at the monitor. "Oh my God."

Jane looked up, "What?"

With a laugh laden with relief he pointed to the monitor, "Her intracranial pressure has dropped two points over the last hour."

Squeezing Maura's hand even tighter she watched as her own tears dripped to Maura's cheek, "That's my girl," Jane whispered kissing the fallen tears away.

They both turned as the door opened and Constance barreled in. She stopped, her mouth falling open in shock, "What is she doing here!" Her eyes simmered with anger as she stared at Ian. "I expressly told you I did not want her here!"

"It's not about you, Constance. It's about Maura and what she would want," Ian pointed at the monitor, "Her pressure has dropped two points since Jane has been here."

The numbers didn't lie. Constance brought her hand to her mouth as tears began to well up behind her eyes. She looked at her daughter and Jane lying beside her and yet still the sharp pain of disapproval bubbled inside of her. A day and a half she had sat by her daughter's side with no change and in the one hour she was gone she had improved. Perhaps that hurt most of all.

"Constance," Jane spoke up, "Please let me stay. I'll sit across the room. I won't bother you. I just want to be here. I promised her, when were at dinner before the accident, I promised her I'd never leave her. I know you hate me right now. I'm not asking you to accept me, or our relationship; but I am asking you to try and see that I do love her and that I would consider it a debt I owe to you if you would just let me be where I can see her." Jane brought her hands to her face and wiped at the tears that were streaming down her cheeks. They were a mix of heartfelt sadness and profound anger that she had to beg to be by Maura's side. Even if she hadn't come around, Jane couldn't imagine that her mother would have forbidden Maura from her bedside under similar circumstances.

"No," Constance replied. "I don't want to see you with her."

"Constance…" Ian reached for her arm but the distraught woman pulled away.

"She's my daughter!" Constance began to sob. "And…and I've been a terrible mother. She's had to find comfort and support everywhere but from me. Not this time. I'm here now. I'm going to be here. I'm going to make it right. Everything I've damaged…I can put it back together. But, I have to be here."

Jane closed her eyes as more tears squeaked through her defenses. Defenses. It was almost laughable. The past months with Maura had stripped her bare and put her back together. Constance had it wrong; Maura wasn't the damaged one and she didn't need her mother or anyone else to stitch back together the pieces. When Maura woke up, Jane knew that she would be the one to fix the mess. Constance was the broken one. With time, Maura would be able to patch the cracks.

She slid her hand under Maura's as she leaned down to place one last kiss on her temple. "Love you," Jane whispered. "I have to go now. Just, remember what I said, my heart is here with you, even if my body's not. Keep getting better. Wake up, Maura, when you're ready, wake up and we'll fix all of this together."

Jane slid off the bed and gave Maura's hand one last squeeze. Jane, Constance, and Ian all watched as slowly Maura's fingers curled and tightened around Jane's hand. With a smile and breathy chuckle of relief Jane let her head lower to rest against Maura's for just a moment. "Thank you."

Disentangling her hand from Maura's weak grasp Jane stepped into the hallway with Ian right behind. Of all the advocates, Ian wasn't who she would have expected. Jane covered his hand on her shoulder with her own. "She knew I was there. She could hear me…or something…it connected."

"Get some rest," Ian encouraged, "I'll keep you updated."

Jane thought back to Maura's first suggestion of playing hockey. She recalled when Frankie had helped her realize how she took her friendship for granted, how she lashed out and treated other people.

"Everyone has their own demons. I think I probably know that more than anyone. It's always easier to punish someone else for our own sense of failure. Maura made me realize that. She's made me a better daughter, sister, friend, colleague…a better person." Jane looked up at Ian, "Tell Constance that I forgive her."


	21. Oh! Quante Volte

**CH 21: Oh! Quante Volte _"Oh! How Many Times"_**

"This is bullshit and everyone knows it…" Frankie gritted his teeth as he whispered, trying to both express the extent of his anger and not wake Jane who had fallen asleep tucked under his arm with her head on his shoulder.

The third night in the hospital had come and gone. Korsak had taken Angela home for a decent night's sleep and Frankie and Frost had taken up sitting duties with Jane in their place. Maura was their friend too, and as much as they were worried they knew it must be absolute torture for Jane.

"I know man," Frost sighed. "But…hospital rules are hospital rules and until Maura wakes up…Constance gets to call all the shots."

Jane stirred on his shoulder, shifting as she seemed to curl in tighter to his side. Frankie ran his hand lightly through her hair as she slept. She was a mess, hair stringy and uncombed, she'd still be sitting in a hospital gown if they hadn't brought her clean clothes to change into each day. The past three days had revealed vulnerability in his sister he thought he'd never see. She'd been through so much and was always so strong, but now, she wouldn't eat and she barely slept. Her shoulders slouched when she was awake and her face was gaunt. Frankie felt like he was watching her slip away. It scared him, that the only thing really keeping Jane going was that Maura was still fighting. In the dark of the night after Jane had finally dozed off he gave in to the morose thought of the worst-case scenario. His sister was supposed to be invincible. Yet, now he knew that if something worse happened to Maura, Jane would be torn apart.

"What if she doesn't…" Frankie stopped himself; the words were impossible to say aloud.

"Stop it," Frost pointed at him. "She's going to wake up. She'll ask for Jane and everything will right itself." He wanted to believe that, that everything would truly be right. Deep down he knew that wouldn't be the case. If Constance didn't relent they all suspected what Maura's reaction would be. Frost found it hard to conjure any sympathy for Constance in that scenario. For him, right was seeing his partner no longer in agony.

"And Constance?" Saying her name even angered him. She was hurting his sister. Jane deserved so much better than this. She had waited so long to find someone like Maura and they had fought so hard, against themselves and against each other to make the relationship happen.

Frost shrugged. If ever there was an unpredictable force in the universe, it was family. "If your mother wouldn't have come around yet and this happened…what do you think she would have done?"

Without hesitation Frankie answered, "She would have let Maura in that room."

"You sure about that?"

"Absolutely," Frankie countered. "She would never have kept Maura from Jane."

* * *

><p>Staring at the monitors. It seemed like that was all they did. Ian glanced over where Constance was curled up on the sofa asleep but quickly his eyes gravitated back towards the digital numbers. He picked her hand up and held it, hoping for some sign…a small squeeze, even the flinch of a finger. But, there was nothing. That sliver of hope had only been for Jane, and still Constance had sent her away.<p>

He settled his hand gently on her head and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You dropped another point. The sooner you wake up, the sooner you can ask for her. She's in the waiting room. She hasn't left. Jane's still here, she's waiting for you to wake up." Ian pulled back enough to look at her face…no response. He leaned down once more and kissed her cheek.

"You still love her," Constance observed groggily as she struggled to sit up through the stiffness in her joints exacerbated by the unforgiving sofa. She wondered for a fleeting moment how many family members had kept vigil for loved ones there, grief and exhaustion so severe that broken down cushions and the bony ribs of the sofa's support hardly seemed a discomfort at all.

"Of course I do," Ian brought her hand to his lips and kissed it lightly before setting it to rest by her side. "But, she loves someone else." He watched Constance again bristle at the suggestion. "The only thing I want more than for my mother's ring to be on her finger…is for her to be happy. Maybe I had a chance to be that person…years ago. But, I let her go and I didn't fight for her. She's happy now. And I can wish it were with me, and you can wish it were with me until we're blue in the face, but it's Jane. My desire to be with her doesn't justify begrudging her the happiness she's already found."

"It could still be you," Constance countered defiantly.

Ian stood with a gusty exhale fueled by frustration. "Are you blind!" He paused to take in the look of total shock on her face. "My God, Constance! You know what it's like to be in love with someone. You fought your own family's disapproval to marry your husband. I would think you, of all people, would support your daughter's choice."

Her face steeled, "My marriage is completely different than…than…" she gestured at Maura as she struggled to find the words.

"Please, do tell," Ian crossed his arms, "how you, fighting the disapproval of your family when it comes to the person you love, is at its core, any different? The details are different, yes. But, you are hurting her! You saw what happened yesterday. The only improvement she made was when Jane was here…"

"She's dropped another point overnight!" Constance walked to Maura's bedside and pointed at the monitor.

"And what do you think was the catalyst for that?" Ian paused as tears began to stream down Constance's red and exhausted face. She'd worn no makeup for days and her skin had turned sallow with dark blue circles forming under eyes. "What is it really Constance?"

Trembling hands covered her face as she cried. "It's all my fault," she muttered through the tears. "It's all my fault," she whispered again as she reached for her purse on the floor. Suddenly, with the dynamic change of demeanor only one of Constance's social standing could have mastered, the tears halted and she squared her shoulders. "I…I need to go home and freshen up."

"Ok…" Ian's mouth fell open and a confused look overtook his face as he watched her walk calmly to the door. _It's all my fault_. He had hoped she would explain, because so far, he just couldn't understand.

Constance stopped just shy of the doorway and turned, "Two hours. I would appreciate it if this time you would make sure she's not still in here when I return."

* * *

><p>Jane gingerly slid her hand under Maura's neck and head, cradling it just off the pillow so she could sweep her hair all to one side, "Sweetie, your hair's a mess." She managed a small smile and laugh as she combed her fingers through the knots in the neglected tresses before setting to work braiding the end. "That should help keep it from getting so matted."<p>

"I'll leave you…" Ian started to leave but Jane stopped him.

"What's the status on the surgery?" She turned, biting down on her lip.

"Postponed. The doctors were encouraged by the improvement. If it continues the surgery shouldn't be necessary."

"Ian…" Jane stopped him once more. "Thank you."

Yellow rays of light shimmered through the center space between the curtains at the window. Jane drew them back and looked out at the morning. It was the first day in recent memory she could recall where the sun actually shone, free of the ubiquitous grey shroud that had hung in the sky most of the winter to that point. The light wasn't warm, a distinct chill was still evident on the window, but it felt good to stand there for a moment and bask in the soft glow. Winter was fading away slowly; no matter how hard it fought, it couldn't last forever.

Jane busied herself around the room for a few minutes, straightening up the mess of magazines and discarded food containers left by Constance and Ian. She also tended the growing collection of flowers that bedecked one end of the room to the other: pulling off dead buds and adding water to vases that were running low. "Oh my God," Jane exclaimed, looking over at Maura with a wry smile. "I'm turning into Ma." She laughed and sat on the edge of the bed and covered Maura's hand between her own. "After I was shot, Ma would obsessively groom the flower arrangements in the room. It made me so nervous…her 'busy-bodyness.' I think I yelled at her one day for it and this awful pain shot through my side and stomach. That was some karma wasn't it?"

Burying her face in Maura's neck, Jane kissed her. Over and over, her neck, up to her jaw, cheek, temple and finally the top of her head where she rested her cheek with a sigh. "Wake up, Maura. Please wake up." She sighed, a pang of guilt in her gut. This was how her mother had felt after the siege on headquarters. Sitting in a hospital room, cursing, praying, and willing her to wake up.

"The Bruins play tonight." If Maura really could feel her presence, Jane was sure she didn't need guilt and sadness. She wished she could have remembered if she felt anything around her when she was in the medically induced coma after her surgery. But, she had woken up none the wiser to the days that had passed. Jane tried to tell herself it didn't mean Maura couldn't feel her there, just that…maybe some things weren't supposed to be remembered. "If you wake up…we can fix this with your mother. We'll watch the game. I'll order a pizza and have Frankie sneak it past the nurses like when I was in the hospital."

Jane ran her fingers over Maura's face, her thumb grazing the tape that held the ventilator stable. _Your throat's going to be really scratchy and sore when that comes out_, she thought as she reached for the ipod in her pocket. Securing one of the buds in Maura's ear and its companion in her own Jane selected an aria from the opera she had bought tickets for as Maura's Christmas present.

She pressed play. "I like this one. I looked up all the lyrics and the translations. I've been getting ready for this opera for over a month. Still doing my homework. Who knew…I Capuleti e i Montecchi…Romeo and Juliet. Seems…strangely appropriate given the past few days." Jane ran one hand along Maura's arm and again kissed her cheek. "Don't worry. We'll fare better."

_Oh! quante volte, _

_Oh! quante ti chiedo _

_Al ciel piangendo_

_Con quale ardor t'attendo, _

_E inganno il mio desir! _

_Con quale ardor t'attendo, _

_E inganno il mio desir!_

Jane whispered the lyrics in Maura's ear as the soprano playing Giulietta serenaded them both with her mournful song of longing. "Oh! How many times. Oh! How many times I've asked you. Crying to the heavens. Ardor to which I await. And deceives my desire! Ardor with which I await. And deceives my desire!"

_Raggio del tuo sembiante _

_Parmi il brillar del giorno: _

_L'aura che spira intorno _

_Mi sembra un tuo sospir. _

_L'aura che spira intorno _

_Mi sembra un tuo sospir._

"The radius of your countenance, is like the shine of day to me: The breeze that blows around me, I think of one of your sighs. The breeze that blows around me, I think of one of your sighs."

One by one, Jane felt Maura's fingers curl and tighten in her hand. Jane tightened her own grip, pressed and held her lips to Maura's knuckles and whispered into the now slightly damp skin, "I'll take that."

* * *

><p>With trepidation Angela let herself into Maura's house. She had seen Constance arrive not too long ago. Once inside, the soft trickle of water from the guest shower was the only sound. Bass sat motionless in the kitchen. She could almost swear the tortoise acknowledged her, his eyes tracking her around the room. No doubt Tommy had fed him before going to work but Angela pulled some of his designated roughage from the refrigerator and set it in front of him just in case. With coffee percolating, she set towards assembling a small lunch. If Constance was anything like she had been, she had probably fretted herself sick and neglected her own needs.<p>

In her first set of fresh clothes in days, Constance emerged still toweling her hair, "Angela…"

"I…" Angela stammered at first, "I saw you come in and I thought I would fix you something to eat for lunch."

"That's very kind," Constance floundered for a moment, their most recent conversation not having gone so well, "You shouldn't have gone to any trouble."

"No trouble," Angela smiled. "Feeding people…it's sort of my thing." She winked as she flipped the panini in the skillet.

"Maura's…always talking about your cooking," she sat and tried to smile as Angela continued to cook. "I was never a good cook," Constance laughed. "Not for lack of trying. I even took classes…can you believe it? And still…terrible."

"In a way," Angela shrugged, "It's an art form. Like your sculpting…or painting. I guess you could say, this is my canvas," she jiggled the handle of the skillet, "and these are my paints," she flipped the sandwich again.

"We have a chef, my husband and I, for holidays and dinner parties." Constance fought a sniffle. "Not much of a wife…not much of a mother."

"Don't say that," Angela moved the skillet off the eye and walked around the counter to where the other woman was sitting. "You're her mother. You love her. She loves you."

"She loves you more," Constance countered, shying away from Angela reaching for her hands.

"That's not true."

Constance nodded. "You said I was cruel. Maybe…maybe I am. Maybe that's why she loves you so much. She has the family now she wishes she always had. The one I never gave her. I've lost her."

The realization dawned on Angela. It was sadness, jealousy, and regret. Constance felt like they had poached Maura: that her own daughter didn't need or want her. She felt she had been replaced. As if their closeness, all of them, hadn't stung enough before, now she and Jane were romantically linked.

"I shouldn't have said that," Angela apologized. "I know what you're going through…on more than one level. The accident, Jane and Maura being together…you're hurt, confused, and scared. And I know that those feelings don't just go away overnight."

Constance wiped at her eyes, trying to take back the control that the overflow of emotions seemed dead set on wrenching away from her, "I…just can't deal with all of this at once! I need things to work in certain ways," she motioned straight up and down with her hands. "I need my daughter…all of the rest of this…I can't. I just can't."

A deep sadness settled into Angela's eyes, she slid the sandwich onto a plate and set it in front of the unraveled woman. "If only life were so easy to control. I always thought I was so good at dealing with chaos. There have been so many tests and I was always the rock. Then I walked in on them kissing and here was this thing that I had no control of; here was my daughter telling me in no uncertain terms that there was no choice to be made. And I almost let my anger, my sadness, and my confusion cost me everything. It's not worth it. Take it from me. You want your daughter back…but right now, you're only pushing her away."

* * *

><p>Ian slipped his phone back into his pocket. The look he knew he would get from Jane began to tear at his chest and he hadn't even gone in the room yet. He stepped in and smiled, the cord from one ear bud stretched from Maura's right ear to the ear bud in Jane's left to the ipod balancing on her leg. Jane leaned down and whispered every so often in her ear and smiled, fidgeting with the braided hair that rested on Maura's shoulder. "What are you listening to?"<p>

Jane turned, pulling the bud from her ear, "I Capuleti e i Montecchi. We have tickets in almost two weeks."

"Ah!" Ian smiled and chuckled. "Bellini. A reworking of Romeo and Juliet. You know, I've only seen it once. In New York. It was well done. I didn't figure you for an opera enthusiast, though."

"Hmm," Jane smiled. "I wasn't…it all started as this…you know I guess it was her courtship of me to tell you the truth. She asked me to teach her to play hockey and then she offered to teach me about something she loved. I chose the opera."

"Maura…playing hockey?" Ian shook his head. "I have a hard time picturing that. I see her in the ballet and fencing pictures her mother showed me once. Dainty, something very technical…"

Jane arched an eyebrow, "Hockey is actually very technical."

"I mean," he continued, "I guess I just have a hard time picturing her in all those pads, sweaty, body checking people into walls." They both laughed. Jane had to admit, she'd had the same misgivings when they first started as well.

"She's actually pretty good. She made my league team. She's even scored a couple of goals. The first playoff game was the other day, after the accident. Our team won, we're sort of the favorites for the championship." She knew why he had come back in. Jane switched off the ipod and gently pulled the bud from Maura's ear. "Is it time?"

His face fell as he nodded, "Constance is on her way. I'm sorry, Jane."

Jane stood and placed a lingering kiss to Maura's temple, "Love you." She looked at Ian. "When she wakes up…please don't let her think I didn't want to be here."

* * *

><p>"Oh! quante volte," Giulietta's aria from Vincenzo Bellini's I Capuleti e i Montecchi.<p> 


	22. The Deep End

**Author's note:** As I mentioned in the note to my other story, I will be moving next week so the next update may take a little longer than usual, but I didn't want to leave you all hanging for too long without some resolution.

**CH 22: The Deep End**

Jane peeled the bandage off her forehead and eyed the cut in the mirror. The lump was hard, very visible, and the bruising had reached the peak of its coloring. She'd been banged up enough times in her life to know what to expect. Maura could tell her why, the whole process of bruising in physiological terms and Jane knew she'd probably do the same thing that she accused Maura of doing once: _When I speak do you hear_ _Jane…blah blah blah…Jane_. The biology behind it wasn't really important to her; she could track the progress from the change in colors. That was always the same: yellow and green to purple and blue. If it was a really bad one it would go almost black before it started to fade. Back to purple and blue and a sort of burgundy color. The impact site would turn normal first and the bruise would fan out from there and slowly fade. She'd caught a base on her upper thigh sliding into third once. It looked light a picture from the Hubble Telescope, an image of a universe right below her ass. It amused her, so she snapped a picture of it to show off whenever she got into injury pissing contests with the guys.

"Lean down," Angela rubbed her back and turned the cold water on in the bathroom sink of the hospital as she swept her daughter's hair back and held it. Each day that passed her heart ached more for the fear and emotional turmoil her daughter was in. She knew that being in the room with Maura wouldn't completely make those feelings go away, but Angela knew from too many personal experiences that not being able to hold a hand, no matter how unresponsive was one of the worse feelings in the world.

The cold water was refreshing. Jane washed her face and then just held her face in her hands as the water pooled. If only the sink was big enough to crawl into she would have. The cold made everything not hurt so much. She'd taken to sitting on a bench outside the hospital every so often, eyes closed as the chill seeped into her body. At least then she could focus on the discomfort of the cold and not the gaping feeling of loneliness that took over every other waking minute.

"I talked to Constance yesterday…when she came home to freshen up," Angela offered, handing Jane a paper towel to dry her face as she finally turned the water off.

"I'm still stuck in the waiting room, so I guess it didn't do much to change her mind," Jane responded dejectedly.

Angela reached for Jane's hands and held them tightly. "I guess I can understand what she's feeling. It doesn't make it right, what she's doing…how she's handling it, but…I understand."

"What's to understand?" Jane tried to pull away but her mother only tightened her hold. "She hates me."

"No," Angela shook her head. "She hates herself. For not being the mother she thinks she should have been. It's hard to admit that to yourself. She thinks Maura doesn't want her…that Maura has replaced her with us."

"All Maura talks about is how much she wishes Constance was around," Jane protested.

"But Constance doesn't know that." Angela sighed and reached up to wipe a tear from the corner of Jane's eye. "As I mother, I think we act the most irrationally when it comes to our children. Baby. She's mad at herself and right now the only way she knows how to deal with it all is to take it out on you. Remember, it wasn't that long ago that I was acting very similarly, without all the added stress of a traumatic accident."

Jane gave in and sank into her mother's embrace. "If it were me, and this had happened while you were still figuring things out…you wouldn't have kept her from me though."

Angela sighed and dragged her fingers through Jane's hair again and again. "No, I wouldn't have. But, everyone handles their grief and confusion in their own way. You know what else?"

"What?" Jane mumbled into her mother's shoulder as she welcomed the warmth of the hug for once.

"This is all going to work out. A mother loves her child. I know this. We haven't spent a lot of time with Constance but I believe she will come around. It may not be easy; it may not be quick. But, she'll realize that Maura hasn't replaced her…that we're all each other's family."

* * *

><p>Waking up felt like drowning: fighting and clawing but not being able to get nearer the surface. Her whole body felt weighted; the pressure closing in around her head and chest. Sinking. Deeper and deeper.<p>

_Open your eyes_. She told herself. _Face it_. But they felt heavy just like her body. The black abyss was crushing. What could she see anyway?

There had been darkness. But then there were lights. Bright lights…blinding lights. And the world exploded in a scream of voice, horn, shattered glass and grinding metal. _JANE!_

"Wake up."

_I can't._

"You can do it, open your eyes."

_They won't open._

"Easy, Maura. Come on. Open your eyes."

_The surface. I can see it. I'm not drowning._

Water became air. Drowning was waking. Her eyelids fluttered open and closed; everything was bright white. The light rippled in waves, and streaks of color and shadows floated across her line of vision. Abstract forms contracted and expanded, grey and blurry they started to come into focus.

_Awake._

Maura's eyes flashed all the way open. She tried to breathe but something stopped her. Panic. She tried to reach for her throat and a stab of excruciating pain shot through her shoulder down her right side.

"You're intubated, Maura. Relax."

That voice. Smooth and low. Familiar. Her eyes tracked slowly towards it. The body came into focus. _Ian_.

"Sweetheart."

Hands settled gently on her face. She tried to move again, this time, the left hand. Slowly she lifted her arm until it connected with the hand on her face. She looked up little by little as the other person became clear. _Mother._

Maura glanced back and forth between the two of them. Confusion began to set in. _Intubated_. It registered but not fully, she tried to speak, tilting her head back as she tried to open her mouth in vain. _Intubated. Pain. Hospital._

Ian's attention turned to the machines, the steady beep of the heart monitor began to quicken, the lines began to spike and drop as Maura's heart rate became more erratic. "Maura, listen to me, you have to calm down. You were in an accident, but you're going to be ok."

_Accident_. Her hand tightened around her mother's wrist. _Blinding lights. Jane. A horn. A scream. Shattered. Metal. JANE!_

Her eyes darted frantically from Ian to her mother, past them and between them as the terror in her chest grew. Her nails dug into Constance's arm until her mother cried out as Maura flung her arm away, reaching for the respirator tubes. The pain didn't matter; she arched her back and tried to will herself to sit up, tears streaking from the corners of her eyes. _JANE!_

Ian caught her hand before she tore the tubes from her throat. "Jane…"

She froze. Her eyes widened and locked with his. _Jane. Please_…

"She's fine," he continued. "Jane is fine, Maura."

_Where is she?_ She let her body relax but ignored the pain in her head and neck as she tried to look once more around the room. _Where is she?_

Ian watched her vitals slowly stabilize and turned to Constance, "Tell her."

Constance's mouth fell open but she clenched it shut quickly. Her lips pursed and turned into a thin line and her eyes teemed with anger as she looked at him. She reached for Maura's hand and clasped it between her own. "Darling, Jane is in the waiting room."

"Tell her why." His tone was more stern this time, almost severe.

Maura's eyes darted back to Ian, her brow beginning to knit together in confusion. She wanted to speak, to tell them to stop playing this game, to just tell her. _Tell me!_

Constance took a deep breath and squared her shoulders but she couldn't force the words out. She looked in Maura's eyes and she knew…there were no words that would soften the blow of what she had done. Deep down she had known what reaction her decision would cause. Nobody understood. Nobody could. It had been easier not to think about it for the past four days, but the loose ground of the precipice she had been standing on had finally given way. Maura was awake, and she was grateful, but there was no joy in the moment as her daughter glanced at her with confusion and hurt behind her eyes.

Ian's hand settled softly on Maura's cheek and he waited until she turned her head to look at him, her eyes glassy with tears, confusion still painted across her face though he suspected she already knew why Jane wasn't there. "Your mother refused to allow Jane to see you…"

Maura ripped her hand from her mother's desperate clutch, wincing at the pain from the movement.

"Darling, please…" Constance pleaded, trying to take hold of Maura's hand again only to be swatted away.

Maura looked to Ian and gestured for something to write with. He gingerly placed a pen into her right hand and lifted it just enough to slide the small notepad the hospital kept in the room under it.

She couldn't see the paper as she wrote and she didn't care if the letters were pretty or straight so long as they were at least vaguely legible. With all the focus she could channel she slowly scrawled the command across the paper. _Jane. Now._

Constance stood, trying to hide the sobs that began to wrack her body. She walked to the window and attempted to distract herself with the people on the street. Clutching her chest over her heart she tried to rein in her emotions but the pain was too great. The dam had broken and as much as she wanted to blame Jane the realization set in that the fault was really all hers. And yet the jealousy she felt over Maura's new family still burned desperately deep within her. She closed her eyes as the tears continued to stain her face. Ian had been right. Constance wasn't sure Maura would ever forgive her. She only thought she had lost her daughter before. The sense of loss felt exponentially starker that second Maura had slapped her hand away.

* * *

><p>Ian ran into the waiting room and strode directly to Jane. Her eyes lifted and she could tell instantly that something had happened. She was standing as he reached for her, his hand taking her by the elbow as he pulled her forward.<p>

"She's awake," he almost thought Jane was going to collapse to her knees as he said it. His grip tightened and he bolstered her as they walked. "She wrote your name down. Asking for you. Constance can't keep you out anymore."

The walk from the waiting room to Maura's bedside seemed almost nonexistent. Jane felt like she had somehow just materialized next to Maura. She didn't even notice Constance standing at the window as she hovered at the foot of the bed while the doctor and nurse checked Maura's responsiveness.

"Very good," the doctor smiled as he had Maura track the movements of his pen. "We'll be back in a few minutes and get you off that respirator."

Jane sat on the edge of the bed as soon as the doctor left and clasped Maura's hand to her heart as she leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"I'm sorry," Jane whispered. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be here when you woke up." She pulled back and wiped her eyes. Maura reached towards the cut and bruising on Jane's forehead and lightly caressed the skin around the stitches. "It doesn't hurt," Jane smiled, stroking Maura's wrist and arm until she pulled her hand down and kissed it.

Maura disentangled her hand from Jane's and pointed at her shoulder. She was becoming more and more aware of the building pain that seemed to stretch down her entire right side. Reaching for Jane's hand again she squeezed it hard as Ian apprised her of the injuries. She winced when she realized in a few days they would probably schedule her for shoulder surgery.

"It's going to be ok," Jane reassured her as the doctor returned. "You're going to be out of here in no time." She stood and moved out of the way to allow the doctor to proceed with the extubation. The horrible sensation seemed fresh in her mind all of a sudden. A memory, like almost everything that reminded her of the shooting, that she wished she could forget. The unnatural feeling of the tube being slowly pulled out and the scratchy, raw ache that it left behind. Jane closed her eyes and gritted her teeth while the doctor proceeded, only opening them once she heard Maura gag and then cough.

"Easy," the nurse cautioned, holding a cup of water with a straw to Maura's lips. "Sip very slowly."

"Jane…" Maura croaked hoarsely as the doctor and nurse again took their leave.

Tenderly, Jane pressed her lips to Maura's, relishing the contact after so many days of absence and the fear that there might not be another chance. She deepened the kiss, lightly sucking on Maura's lower lip as her tongue flicked across the soft flesh. The kiss waned and Jane smiled as her thumb ghosted across the lips she had just savored. "I was so scared. I love you so much."

"I love you too," Maura whispered. "How long have I been…?"

"Almost four days." Jane watched Maura's brow furrow as she processed that revelation. She could remember how bizarre it was to get that news too: that you could literally lose days and not even know it. Now she'd been on both sides of it and could guarantee without a moment's second thought that being the loved one sitting an uncertain vigil was by far the worst.

It dawned on Maura. "We missed the game."

For the first time in four days, Jane laughed, shaking her head as the chuckles rolled through her body. "You've been unconscious for four days and the first thing you think to ask about is our hockey game?"

"It's the playoffs," Maura murmured, a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips as she fought the heaviness of her eyelids from the pain medication the doctor had administered.

"I've created a monster," Jane jested, placing a quick kiss to Maura's lips as she stroked her hair.

"We won though," taking a deep breath, Maura fought to keep her eyes open. Four days. The last thing she wanted was to slip back into sleep. She wanted the sight of Jane to occupy her eyes, the touch of her hands gliding across her skin, and the warmth of her lips on her lips and on attention-starved skin.

"Yeah, we won. How'd you know that?"

Maura shook her head. "You told me."

Jane smiled and nodded and looked at Ian.

"But…now I won't get to play." Her words were starting to slur and that weighted feeling began to overpower her. A tear crept out of the corner of her eye and began to carve down her cheek, but Jane caught it with her thumb and wiped it away.

"I promise you, if we make the championship, you'll touch that ice even if I have to carry you, ok?" Jane kissed her forehead and caressed her cheek as Maura's eyes fluttered shut but were willed open again.

"Ian…" Maura struggled to turn her head so she could see him to her right. "The roll top desk in my home study…my lawyer's information. Have him bring power of attorney papers."

"You don't have to do that," Jane protested.

With a sideways glance, Maura could see her mother still standing at the window. "Yes…I do." She watched her mother gather her coat and purse and walk silently from the room. Unable to fight it much longer, Maura squeezed Jane's hand, "Going to fall asleep now."

Jane shifted, carefully bringing her legs up onto the bed she stretched out on her side next to Maura, "I'll be here when you wake up."

Maura nodded, "I know." Eyes closed she gave in and let the deep begin to pull her under, but it didn't seem as dark now nor as lonely. A faint tuned played in her mind. Jane's breath ebbed across her cheek and neck. The tune became clearer. Maura's lips began to move and she whispered, just barely audible, "The breeze that blows around me…"

Smiling, Jane curled in closer to Maura's side and pressed her lips just under Maura's ear, "I think of one of your sighs," she whispered back.


	23. Treading Water

**CH 23: Treading Water**

Maura groaned softly as she came to with a start. Again, it was the sound of breaking glass and twisting metal that tore her from slumber. She never wanted to hear that sound again, yet it was haunting her subconscious.

They were dancing, her arm looped lazily around Jane's neck, her hand warm and comforted in Jane's grasp, her cheek resting gently on a tall shoulder as she was led around the dance floor. It all exploded in screeching chaos with wailing sirens blaring in her ear, the scent of sulfur and gasoline fresh in her nose, and the metallic taste of blood on her tongue.

When she awoke the sounds, smell, and taste hung on her senses like a needy child, dead weight that made her struggle not to drown in the terrifying memory.

The room was dark and her eyes were slow to adjust. The void frightened her. Maura tried to tell herself that the retarded abilities of her senses were a lingering result of the head trauma; that it would get better little by little. But, no attempt at reason or tapping into her vast medical knowledge could quell the fear that simmered inside. She felt alone and paralyzed by the black around her.

"Jane!" Maura shrieked.

A voice, hands, and lips sliced through the nothing. "Shhh," Jane whispered, one hand cupping Maura's cheek as the other raked through her hair. She kissed the palm of Maura's hand that found its way to her face through the darkness and then leaned down to press her lips to her forehead.

Maura knew then, the warmth, the pressure on her left side, the ghosting breath across her neck – it had been Jane. "I couldn't see anything," she whispered, embarrassed to fully admit that the darkness had scared her.

The sudden burst of light caused Maura to flinch, her eyes slamming shut and then slowly fluttering open. When they were adjusted to the change she could see Jane looking down at her.

"I'm sorry," Jane apologized as she propped herself up on an elbow and let her left hand trace abstract patterns down Maura's cheek, neck and chest. "I hated waking up in the dark after the shooting too. It's like…there's that second or two where you forget where you are and all you remember is that last moment before it all goes blank. I would see you running towards me and hear the pop of the gun. Waking up in a dark room…I always thought for just those first few seconds I was either about to die or had died."

Maura nodded, "All I can hear right before I wake up is glass and metal. Like…a thousand mirrors are falling to pieces all around me. And I smell it and taste it. Gasoline and blood. The accident…what happened?"

"Drunk driver. Ran the light and t-boned us."

"We were almost home," Maura whispered, her lip trembling.

* * *

><p>Sometimes, Constance wondered how much of Maura she was truly responsible for. She had never even wanted children. But, one day, Patrick Doyle was standing in front of her with a newborn, holding the child out to her clothed only in a hospital-issued onesie and swaddled in a thin blanket. He pled. Pled for her and her husband to take his child, to keep her safe, to give her what he would never be able to. And she looked into his eyes then, as she had during all of those art classes he had sneaked into and she glimpsed the soul of a human being she knew few others had ever seen. Her hands reached out and took the screaming infant and in an instant the crying ceased.<p>

_My darling…_

She walked around Maura's living room, running her finger across the spines of books, staring at the paintings and pictures that adorned the walls. Maura had always displayed a love for art and human creativity. Constance wanted to take credit for that; but Patrick had come to steal art lessons. Nature. Nurture. The past four days had reminded her that she had never been the best nurturer. Boarding school, summer academies in ballet, fencing, and equestrian events…suddenly, Constance was acutely aware of every instance from Maura's youth that she had sent her away.

"What have I done?" More tears, hot and painful, she wasn't sure she could stand much more of the burn.

"Nothing that can't be fixed." Angela's voice drifted in from the doorway and spun Constance around.

Constance wiped furiously at her eyes and tried to run a hand through her mangled and unkempt hair.

"Oh, honey," Angela waved her hands and strode towards Constance, grabbing her hands. "You should have seen what I looked like while Janie was in the hospital! The whole ordeal gave me new wrinkles!"

They both sat on the sofa, Angela forcing Constance's reluctant hand into her grasp once more. "You know, I may not be the most educated, I don't know the names of these photographers…" she gestured towards the wall hangings, "…or who most of the authors are on those shelves. I'm not an artist, or a doctor, or even a decorated detective. But, I'm a very good listener…most of the time. And sometimes, that's just what someone needs."

With a deep breath and a slow exhale, Constance closed her eyes and shook her head. She felt it, in her heart; if she said it out loud it would truly be real.

Angela knew. "You know, we all think we're bad mothers at some time or another."

"When was the last time you thought you were?" Constance looked at her, skeptically. Everyone seemed to love Angela. Her family was so close. Even Maura loved her; she'd let her move into her guesthouse after all. It pained Constance, the way Maura looked at Angela sometimes, in a way that she didn't recall her daughter ever having looked at her.

"Well, that's easy!" Angela chuckled but her tone became more somber as she thought about the recent trial. "When I found out about Jane and Maura…I told my child she was going to hell; that she was a sinner. And I walked out on her. I left her standing in that kitchen, just over there, with tears about to stream down her face. I don't just think I was a bad mother…I was a bad mother then. No one's perfect, not even me. My youngest son, Tommy, I don't think you've met him yet…he's battled a drinking problem. Well, on his third strike he drove drunk and took out a priest in a crosswalk and went to jail. Talk about feeling like a failure as a mother."

"I should have been there more," Constance managed to choke out. "I sent her away. Every chance I got, I sent her away. Boarding school. Camps. And when she was home, I had nannies. I look at her, and…I think she only calls me mother out of some sense of formal duty."

"That's not true," Angela let her hand travel to Constance's back and start moving in slow comforting strokes up and down. "You have no idea, do you? You have no idea how excited she is when you call, when you come visit. She nearly works herself into a panic over it! She loves you. She wants to spend time with you."

"I neglected her."

Angela pulled on Constance's hand until the other woman looked at her, "I have seen neglected children. I've heard Jane and Frankie come home with stories that make you want to lose all faith in humanity. Since I have met you, I see so much of you in her. Not just the love of art and music…she's selfless and giving. You took in a child and gave her a life she never would have had and you're beating yourself up because you wish you would have given her more."

"I could have given her more…of myself, of my time…" her lip quivered as she spoke but she couldn't tear her eyes away from Angela's. There was something comforting in those subtle grey-brown eyes that pulled words out she had thought she was too scared to loose.

"Yes, you could have," Angela arched her eyebrows and squeezed Constance's hand. "And she may always carry a little pain from that and you will probably always carry some of the guilt. But, it's in the past. Do you have a time machine?"

A thin smile and small breathy laugh escaped Constance's lips, "No."

"Then, let it go. You can't have those years back. You can only have the years ahead of you, if you choose to take advantage of them. I love Maura, and I'm sure she loves me. She's like the girly daughter I never had and maybe in some ways I'm like the kind of mother she thinks she always wanted. But, I can never be you. I will never be the shoulder she cried on as a child, or the name she called when she was scared. You are her mother and she doesn't love you out of obligation. She loves you because she genuinely loves you and I think I've gotten to know Maura well enough to know that when she loves someone it's true and it's real. Now, the Constance Isles I thought I knew was a strong woman who knew what she wanted and went after it. Who is the woman I'm looking at right now?"

"I've messed things up so terribly," Constance shook her head and clasped her hand over her mouth as she thought about the look on Maura's face when it was revealed she had forbidden Jane in the room.

"It's a bump in the road," Angela reassured her. "It may take some time. I'm sure that Maura feels hurt and betrayed, but I've never known her to not be forgiving. They forgave me; they'll forgive you too."

* * *

><p>She thought about all those days, when Jane had finally regained consciousness after the shooting, when she patently refused help for the little things she was sure she could do herself. Maura stared intently at her left hand, willing it to be still as she shakily tried to bring the spoonful of soup to her mouth. Her shoulder and side ached from the nurses maneuvering her into a somewhat sitting position and now she was all too ready for the surgery if it would make just one thing hurt a little less. She almost had the broth to her lips when half of it sloshed out and dribbled down her chin. With a sigh, Maura reached for the napkin on the tray and dabbed the spillage dry.<p>

"I could help you…" Jane offered.

"You wouldn't let anyone help you," Maura dropped the spoon back in the soup with a splash and furrowed her brow at the yellow liquid and the small chunks of carrot and noodle bobbing around towards the top.

"I tried that," Jane pointed at the bowl. "Giving it the evil eye doesn't help."

"The tray is too far away."

Jane cocked her head and nodded. It was too far away. "Yeah, but you can't sit up all the way. So, want me to help you?"

Her eyes glanced towards her girlfriend and back at the enemy soup. "I suppose. Unlike you, I am capable of admitting when the logistics of a situation necessitate intervention by a secondary party."

"I'm going to take that as Maura Isles-speak for 'I can't quite feed myself yet,'" Jane punctuated with a wink as she picked up the bowl and spoon and carefully brought a spoonful to Maura's lips.

Her dinner finished, Maura relaxed against the pillows and felt some of the discomfort from straining to hold herself up while she ate dissipate. Ian's words kept playing in her mind: _Your mother refused to allow Jane to see you…_

"What did she say to you?"

Jane held her hand lightly and stared down at their intertwined fingers for a moment, "That she didn't want me anywhere near you."

Extricating her hand, Maura reached for Jane's cheek and let her thumb slide back and forth across the weary skin, "I'm so sorry she treated you that way. I never would have thought she would go that far…"

With her eyes closed, Jane nodded. She just wanted the nightmare of the last few days to continue to fade away. But, in one way she was almost thankful for them. They had revealed something so fundamental to her, a conclusion she knew she would have arrived at eventually but which the trauma and fear of loss had hastened.

"You make me whole," she whispered as she leaned her cheek into Maura's hand. "Sitting in that waiting room for days, I realized that. It was like this piece of myself had been torn away and I just understood that for the first time. I was just barely holding on. The little I slept there would be these terrible dreams and I could feel you slipping through my fingers. I almost lost it, you, what made these last few months a time when I have felt more like myself than I ever have. That must sound bizarre." Jane opened her eyes with a smile and a small chuckle.

"It doesn't sound strange at all," Maura's hand fell away and she tugged Jane closer.

"I feel like so much of my life I've had to pretend," Jane continued. "I'm rough and tumble, a tomboy I guess. I always have been. But, at work, I always feel this pressure to be an exaggerated version of that: to fit in with the guys, to make the suspects respect me…hell, just to get by with as little grief as possible. Then, when I've been with men, it's like I have to check all of that at the door. I have to be a girl _**for**_ them…not for me. It's not like that with you. I'm just me, in whatever form I happen to feel like that day. There's no hiding anything or playing anything up. If I showed up in a suit to take you to the opera I know you wouldn't really care even if you ribbed me about wearing a dress…and that makes me want to wear a dress for you. That sounds so silly…"

Maura shook her head, tears beginning to trickle down her face.

"I've never felt more free than I have in the last few months and it's all because of you," Jane shifted next to Maura to face her and pressed their lips together. She deepened the kiss, sucking hungrily on Maura's lips, though acutely aware a kiss was so insufficient to convey the feelings of soul shattering love and gratitude that swelled within her. "Thank you," Jane whispered as they parted. "Thank you…for loving me…for never giving up."

* * *

><p>Sheer fabric unfurled from the skeleton rigging of rusted steel scaffolding. Varying shades of red – crimson, burgundy, and a few panels of orange-tinged vermilion billowed in the cool breeze. The temperature grew colder and Maura looked up from her theater seat through a vanished ceiling into a grey winter sky. The air above her was a monotone expanse of slate until swirling flakes of snow began to fall. The flecks fell around her and dotted the bright red seats to her left, right, and front. All empty. Her eyes wandered towards the stage, the silk chiffon curtain panels whipping furiously to and fro until the scaffolding began to groan and the fabric was released, torn away from the stage by a gusty vacuum that sliced through her as well, leaving an ominous chill.<p>

The stage revealed a velvet chaise, and atop it Jane, clad in a heavy romantic gown with gold stitching and ornament. She looked out at the nonexistent audience and began to speak, but though Maura was so close to the stage she heard no words. Her heart began to race as she stood, walking towards the pit. She tried to speak; to tell Jane to come to her but the words didn't form. A man entered, a dark figure in all black and covered with a hooded cape. Maura froze and watched him approach Jane. He knelt in front of her, and slipped out of the cape. She recognized him and watched as he pulled a vial from the breast of his shirt and held it out. As Jane drank and fell back to the chaise the man looked over his shoulder at Maura and smiled. It wasn't a man at all.

_Mother._

The sound of twisting and warped metal screamed around her as the scaffolding pulled free at all of the joints and began to tumble in a heap around them.

"No!" Maura gasped, eyes flashing open as the pleasingly rotund face of an older nurse looked back at her.

"Easy, there," the woman soothed, eyes glancing towards the monitors for a second before she pulled the blanket up higher over Maura's chest. "That must have been some dream!"

Maura licked her lips and nodded, she opened her mouth but only a soft exhale escaped. A dense fog had settled in her head again. She tried to breach the clouds, to gain control of her faculties and pull the words forward but the haze was too thick. Fighting, her lips moved but she was conscious enough to know that no vocalizations were forthcoming.

"You're not quite out from under the anesthesia yet," the nurse spoke, taking a tissue and dabbing at the moisture that was forming at the corner of Maura's eyes. "You're in recovery. The surgery went just fine. Just, close your eyes. The next time you wake up everything will make more sense."

* * *

><p>Voices. The sound grew around her. What started as a single whisper began to crescendo until she could pick out at least three distinct persons. One of the voices was closer than the others and she could feel a touch as well. A hand on her chest – warm, firm, but not rough, rubbing from the center over her heart to her shoulder and back down.<p>

"Maura, wake up," the voice encouraged, low and raspy.

"Jane…" she murmured, eyes slowly fluttering open. Maura looked around, she recognized the sparse décor of her hospital room, the few bouquets of new flowers and the wilted petals of the old. Jane looked back at her and smiled. As her eyes continued to take in the surroundings she saw Ian had returned and just behind Jane stood Angela.

Angela walked forward and bent over to kiss her forehead, "I have to go to work, but I'll see you later." Maura nodded.

Ian sat on the opposite edge of the bed from Jane and carefully peeled the edge of her hospital gown back. Maura watched, realized that her right arm wasn't through the sleeve and then it all came back.

"I had surgery," she mumbled, greedily taking the straw in her mouth that Jane offered and sucking several gulps of water down.

Ian nodded, "They set your shoulder, it required pins and your collarbone was so badly fractured they had to put in a small plate for stability."

"Mmm," Maura groaned, "I suppose my trips through airport security will be much more lively now."

Jane chuckled, "You're practically the Bionic Woman."

Maura's brow furrowed as she contemplated the reference, "Ah. Sadly, I doubt I'll garner increased strength from the pins and plate. If anything I suspect I'm in for some grueling physical therapy, which at best will hopefully restore my range of motion and strength to its previous levels."

Her face fell at the reality of the situation and Jane's joking smile faded as she threaded her fingers through the crown of Maura's hair. "Hey, listen to me," Jane leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. "You'll be good as new. Out there on the ice with me in the off-season, slapping pucks and running drills getting ready for next season. We'll go to yoga, zumba, rumba, Tae-Bo, whatever you want…this isn't going to keep you down. You didn't let me wallow and give in to my injuries after the shooting and I'm not letting you."


	24. Promises to Keep

**Author's note:** This story is wrapping up. Depending on how wordy my plans for the conclusion are; there are only 1, maybe 2 more chapters. Also, this chapter is rated M.

**CH 24: Promises to Keep**

Ten days. In ten days Maura had forgotten what the outside felt like. A gust of cold air met the skin on her slightly exposed chest and she reached up to tug the zipper of Jane's sweatshirt all the way to her chin. Ten days in the hospital but it had seemed like so much longer. She had half a deluded notion that it wouldn't still be winter in Boston when she was released. But, it was.

And while in ten days winter hadn't given in to spring, so many things had changed. More snow had melted and what remained was slushy and grey-black. It was still cold but winter's fangs had lost much of their bite. The sun was out more often than hidden. Her mother had betrayed her. Most importantly, in those ten days everything about her relationship with Jane had been laid bare. There were no more feelings of almost sure. It was all so beautifully clear; it was the most clear and obvious thing she'd ever felt in her life. So stark in its revelatory simplicity she wanted to laugh at how any shred of doubt had managed to stay nestled in her heart and mind over the past few months.

Maura looked up at the sky and then out at the street as the cars whirred by as she and Jane waited for Ian. She smiled as Jane's hands rested on her shoulders and caressed lightly back and forth. Maura let her left hand cover Jane's, "Forever. You and I." It was barely more than a whisper but the words drifted up to Jane's ears nonetheless.

Jane knelt by the wheel chair and laced her fingers with Maura's. "What was that?" She kissed the back of Maura's hand and rubbed the cold skin with her free hand.

Still holding Jane's hand, she reached out just enough to graze a cheek with her fingertips. Maura brought their hands to her lips and returned the kiss to the back of Jane's palm. "I'm going to marry you."

With a soft chuckle Jane smiled and didn't even bother to wipe the tear away that sneaked out from the corner of her eye, "Is that so?" she responded with her telltale flare for emotion-masking humor.

Maura nodded. "Before the accident you said you would never leave me. I'll never leave you either. You are this piece of myself that I've been looking for all my life and thought I would never really find. But, you're it and recognizing that is both the most amazing revelation of my entire life and the greatest gift I've ever been given. I'm going to marry you, Jane. And I don't care where. And I don't even care what you or I wear. Or what music plays, what the reception food tastes like, or if the weather's bad. I'm going to stand before our friends, family, the law…God," a whisper of a laugh slipped out and Maura stared intently into soulful brown eyes, glistening with tears, "and I'm going to pledge that as long as I breathe, my heart, my everything belongs to you and that a day will never pass that I take for granted what you mean to me."

"I think you just did," Jane choked out as she stood and captured Maura's lips in a slow and affirming kiss. And in many years, when they were old and grey and someone asked who had proposed and how, Jane thought it was so perfectly befitting them that she would say that Maura _**proposed**_ by stating so matter of factly that they _**would**_ be getting married, on a late winter day on the curb of Mass General after they'd nearly been robbed of ever having the chance to consider marriage at all.

They separated reluctantly when Ian pulled up. Maura's eyes raked from the chrome front of the Jeep, across black metallic panels splashed with mud and the dingy grey remnants of melted snow laced with car exhaust, down to the tires before she closed her eyes. In her mind there were headlights and a black steel battering ram streaking towards her through the night, a crashing sound so loud it sounded like shrill thunder in her ears, the cold seemed colder, she felt the wet of snow flurries on her skin and suddenly the right side of her body ached in response.

"Maura." Jane's hands moved to her face and coaxed her eyes back open. "Hey. You're shaking." She followed Maura's eyes to the car. "It's going to be ok, Maura. I'll be sitting in the back with you. You can close your eyes, put your head on my shoulder, you don't have to look out the window at all."

Maura tried to swallow the fear as she nodded. She choked it down, holding her breath to try and regain control. She let Ian help her stand and ease her into the vehicle.

"Ok?" he asked as he held on to her hand and waited for Jane to climb in next to her.

"Drive slowly, please," Maura whispered.

* * *

><p>She wanted to be brave. Like how one of the first things Jane had done when she was released was go to the shooting range. She'd been in too much pain still to fire anything with any kickback, but she'd sat on the opposite side of the plexiglass from the indoor lanes and listened to the hobbyists unload clip after clip at faceless human-shaped targets. When the lanes were empty she'd walked in, closed her eyes and inhaled until she grasped her side in pain from the depth of the breath.<p>

_Smell that?_ She had asked.

_Gunsmoke._ Maura had crinkled her nose as she sniffed. The smoke was thick and almost overpowering with a curious tinge of sweetness as it lapped over the back of her tongue and down her throat.

_Fear._ Jane replied, slowly kneeling until she plucked a 9mm casing from the pile of swept empties near her feet and tucked it in her pocket. _But, it can't have me. We can go now._

That was how Maura wanted to be: eyes open, staring straight ahead at the road in front of them and the familiar sights of the city as they drove, not looking to her right in terrified expectation of those headlights. They hadn't even made it out of the parking lot before the panic wrapped around her body, cracked her chest and seeped inside. So, she did as Jane suggested and closed her eyes, hand blindly searching for Jane's until she found it as she let her head fall to a sturdy shoulder and felt a reassuring arm wrap around her and lips kiss her gently on the head.

Ian drove slowly, an almost decrepit pace, announcing every dip and divot he spied in the road ahead in case it jarred the car, ignoring the furious Boston motorists who honked at his leisurely pace and careened around him flipping him the bird as they passed.

The vehicle came to a stop and Maura cracked one eye open as she heard the grind of the parking brake being pulled. It wasn't her house they were parking in front of however, but the ice arena.

"I thought we'd make a quick pit stop," Jane smiled. "There are a few people who wanted to see you."

* * *

><p>The team was skating their practice warm-ups when they entered. The familiar ear-piercing bleat of Coach Saarsgard's whistle rang through the air and filled Maura's ears followed by the grate and slice of blades across the ice as everyone stopped and turned. With Jane's arm around her waist to steady her, Maura stepped up to the ice entrance. The team skated over and lined up in front of her.<p>

Coach Saarsgard started the cheer, her deep voice booming and filling the arena, "Get ready!"

"Get set!" Marcie's voice answered from the end of the first line.

Then, they all joined in: "Let's get that puck into the net! Black Caps, let's win tonight! Black Caps, for Maura fight! C-A-P-S! Black Caps! Black Caps! Black Caps! Isles! Isles! Isles!"

Maura bit her lip but failed to stem the tears that began to streak down her face. Outside of her work, she'd never truly felt like a part of a team before. She'd worked hard for this. She had earned her spot and she had been accepted, and along the way she had made more friends than she had ever had in her life, and she had fallen in love. A part of her wanted to be bitter that the accident had robbed her of the chance to see the season through to the end. But, as she stared at her teammates and listened to them chant her name; it didn't seem to matter as much as she thought it would. The pins and the plate in her shoulder, the cracked ribs, and the bruises could only keep her off the ice. They couldn't take away what really mattered.

Marcie skated forward and held out two pucks to her, "We wrote your name on the game pucks before the games. Each victory was a shutout. We want you to have them. They brought us luck and we thought when you started your physical therapy you could take 'em with. Give them a squeeze when it gets rough…or throw them at the therapist, whatever works."

Maura laughed and took the gift.

Coach Saarsgard stepped up, "And even though you can't play…I still expect to see you suited up and on the bench for the championship game on Sunday. It'll be a tough one and I could use some help picking and calling plays. And when we hoist the league trophy at the end, it's going to need every hand."

Maura glanced at Jane as she clutched the pucks to her chest and then back at her team with a smile and a head nod she hoped conveyed the words she couldn't form at the moment. With a cleansing breath she looked at her coach and managed, "I wouldn't miss it for anything."

* * *

><p>It was a noticeable relief that Maura felt when they pulled into her driveway. <em>Home<em>. The physical manifestation of it anyway. She looked at Jane and gave her hand a quick squeeze, "Would you give Ian and I a minute?"

"Of course," Jane nodded. "I'll go give everyone the no bear hugs warning."

Maura waited for Ian to come around and open the door, she turned cautiously and let him assist her in stepping out of the car. With her feet on the ground she kept her hand tightly in his grip. "Thank you. For everything you did at the hospital. Fighting for Jane. Sneaking her back to see me. You didn't have to do any of that. Considering…"

His hand was light on the small of her back as he shortened his steps to match her slow progress towards the house. "But, I did have to. I love you. I don't expect anything from you when I say that. I've never seen you happier than with Jane. I want that for you because I love you. It's what I should have done all these years but didn't…make sure you were happy. So, I had to because it's what was right, because you needed her and she needed you, and because I owed you that."

Jane was waiting for them on the doorstep. Ian went to transfer Maura's hand to Jane's but Maura reached for his face and pulled him down to place a chaste kiss on his cheek first.

"I'm not usually much of a hugger," Jane moved towards him and opened her arms, "but…" Ian returned the gesture. "Thank you," she said as they separated, "what you did at the hospital meant everything to me."

The house was toasty when they entered, a fire crackled in the fireplace and the undeniable aroma of Angela's cooking wafted from the kitchen. Frankie and Tommy popped up from the sofa and started clapping and like a flash Angela was there, cupping her face, "Welcome home, sweetheart."

"It's good to be home," Maura affirmed. But the relief and comfort of standing in her own living room with her newly acquired family was short lived when she looked past Angela to see her mother standing in the kitchen threshold. They stared at each other for a tense moment until Maura looked away.

Jane could feel the muscles in Maura's back coil and tighten under her palm. She applied more pressure, bearing down with her thumb in massaging circles. "I can help you to the sofa," she whispered, "we can all give you some time with…"

"No," Maura cut her off. "I haven't had a shower in ten days. I would really like it if you helped me to the bathroom."

With as much increased quickness to her stilted and shuffling steps as she could muster, Maura focused on getting out of the living room without looking back. She braced herself on the sink as Jane retrieved towels and before she could stop it she began to sob. With each crying shake the pain streaked from her battered right side to her heart. The overwhelming emotion threatened to take her to her knees, but just before she felt she was about to fall Jane was there, holding her up.

"Why is she here?" Maura's voice quaked as she cried.

Jane tilted her head back and kissed Maura's forehead, "Because she's your mother. And she probably wants to talk to you."

"I'm not sure I want to talk to her."

"I know." She did know. Better than anyone. She had been through this. They had been through this already. The experience with Angela had done little to dull the pain of rejection a second time. "You don't have to do anything until you're ready." Jane eased the sling strap over Maura's head and unzipped her sweatshirt as she began to help Maura undress.

Naked, Maura turned and faced the mirror. Bandages covered the surgical scars on her shoulder and collarbone, but she knew how long and ugly they were under the dressing. Dark bruises painted her right side from just under her breast down to her hip and then skipped and dotted the side of her upper thigh and knee as well. The hairs on her arms stood up and her skin shivered as Jane's fingers traced light as a feather over the dark purple expanse on her ribs.

"Bruises fade, bones mend," Jane mumbled into her neck as she kissed her.

"The scar…" Maura countered.

Withdrawing her hands from Maura's hips Jane stripped her own shirt off and ran her hand over the twisted and ghastly scar from the shooting. "Will one day be a reminder of how strong you are."

With a sigh Maura turned and sank into Jane's arms. Resting her head on that familiar and comforting shoulder she looked towards the shower stall. "I don't feel very strong right now. I need you to help me bathe and wash my hair."

"It takes time," Jane assured her from her own personal experience as she helped her into the shower. "One day, you're going to look in the mirror and see that scar and say: _I beat the odds. I'm a survivor. No, I'm a badass!_ And you're going to take off the jacket, or the big bouffant scarf, or whatever you're wearing to hide it, and walk out of the house in a strapless dress."

Maura wrapped her arm tighter around Jane's waist as she closed her eyes and let her head roll back as lather from the shampoo began to trickle down her face. "Where will you be when I have this revelation?"

With her fingers buried deep in Maura's soapy hair, Jane paused. "Right next to you. Holding your hand and grinning like an idiot because I know for a fact I'm with the most beautiful woman in the room."

Water falling on porcelain, tile, and glass became the only sound. Jane shampooed her hair twice, diligently and thoroughly freeing it of ten days worth of grit and grime. The last tiny bits of dried blood that came out under her fingernails sent a pang through her chest. Maura kept her eyes closed, pondering how good of a job she could do with one hand since she couldn't use her right arm or how many days between hair washings she could manage before she would be forced to break down and ask Jane to help her. She kept them closed until she smelled the familiar flowery scent of her bodywash and felt the loofah caress over her neck.

"I can do this part," she reached for Jane's hand.

"Let me," Jane kept washing, moving the loofah in small circles from her neck, over her shoulder and down her back. "I just want to touch you."

With a nod she let her hand fall to Jane's chest and slide across the slick skin all the way down her front until she again gripped her hip for the reassuring stability of the anchor point. She watched as Jane brought the loofah from her back, over her hip and then began the same circling motion on her stomach, her free hand trailing in the foamy wake, delicate and gentle over her painfully bruised ribs but firmer when Jane cupped her breast and swiped the soapy lather from her nipple with her thumb.

"Touch me then," Maura moaned.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Slumping forward to rest her head in the crook of Jane's neck, Maura pulled the sponge from her hand and guided Jane between her legs. "The process of reaching climax, before and during orgasm causes a surge in endorphins and the chemical oxytocin, which acts as a pain-killer and raises pain tolerance. It's been almost two weeks. It hurts more not feeling you. I need you."

"Yes, doctor," Jane smirked as she kissed and sucked down Maura's neck, her fingers slowly stroking between Maura's legs and circling her clit. Heavy breaths washed across her chest as Maura's fingers dug into her hip and back while her body trembled. "Easy," Jane whispered carefully walking Maura backwards and guiding her to sit on the back of the tub. "Don't want you to get weak and slip."

The tile of the stall was cool against her back as Maura relaxed against it. She watched expectantly as Jane lowered to her knees between her legs. "I…I haven't shaved…" her cheeks flushed as she realized.

Jane chuckled, shaking her head as her hands rubbed back and forth over Maura's thighs. "Don't care."

The honesty of the moment banished her reservation. Maura smiled, closing her eyes and spreading her legs wider. She gasped as Jane's lips and tongue made contact with her center. Threading her fingers through heavy, wet hair, she kneaded and scratched lightly at her lover's scalp. The cooler air at the back of the shower swept over her damp body and teased her nipples erect. Maura looked down at Jane between her legs and tightened her grip on the fistful of hair in her grasp. "Yes…" she whispered as the warmth of Jane's mouth encircled her aching clit and sucked. With a desperate quickness she didn't even try to stave off, Maura came, whimpering Jane's name as her body jerked and trembled to the unrelenting touch.

Eyes shut and propped against the wall of the shower, Maura basked in the high while Jane dried off and dressed. When fingers tapped lightly from her eyebrow, down her cheek, and ghosted across her lips she looked up into Jane's eyes.

"I love you," Maura whispered into a kiss as Jane wrapped her in a towel.

"I love you too."

With a giggle, Maura lifted a suspicious eyebrow as Jane prepared to slip her into a plaid flannel button up nightshirt. "It's not Dior, but it is warm, comfortable and easy to get into and out of," Jane quipped as she buttoned the shirt.

"Of course it's not Jane, Dior would never use this fabric or pattern," Maura jabbed, a playful smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

With a long kiss to quiet any further jests, Jane ran her hands under the shirt, not ready to lose contact with skin just yet.

"I think I'd like to go to bed," Maura yawned as they exited the bathroom.

Jane turned the covers down and helped Maura slip under them, adjusting pillows under her shoulder and arm until she was comfortable.

"Stay with me." Her voice was pleading and tinged with a fearful need.

Crawling in bed beside her Jane snuggled tightly against her, hand on Maura's chest as her breath rolled soothingly across her cheek and neck, "I'm not going anywhere, remember?"

Maura closed her eyes and covered Jane's hand with her own, "I remember."


	25. Coda

**Author's Note:** With this chapter, Of Arias and High Sticking comes to an end. It is twice as long as the previous chapters because there just wasn't a natural place to split it in two. I would like to thank everyone that has been reading and reviewing. I have thoroughly enjoyed writing it and talking with all of you in PM, on twitter, tumblr etc. As always I appreciate your comments and support. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter as a fitting end to this story.

**CH 25: Coda**

Two hours had passed when Jane's eyes lazily fluttered open. Carefully lifting herself to prop up on her elbow she watched as Maura continued to sleep soundly. Other than being in the coma, it occurred to Jane she had never actually watched Maura sleep before. It was a peaceful sight, not like in the hospital when even though Maura had awakened Jane worried that something would still go wrong. They were home now, and something about that left her at ease, that, things would be ok. Everything would be ok. She held her fingers in front of Maura's nose and felt her breath reach out and draw back in a steady and quiet rhythm against her skin. Sporadically, Maura's eyes twitched, and her nose crinkled while a faint hum slipped out on an extended exhale.

"What are you dreaming about?" Jane whispered, running her fingers through Maura's still damp hair. She'd been too exhausted to even let Jane blow it dry. Tucking a loose strand behind Maura's ear that had slipped free from the hastily thrown together braid she continued to watch her dream. Her fingers trailed higher and traced along the outside edges of the lacerations' bruising on Maura's forehead. "No more nightmares. No more nightmares."

The gentle touch began to rouse her from sleep. The inviting comfort of her own bed tricked her into forgetting her injuries for a moment. Maura tried to roll over but the pain pill she had been given that morning was on the tail end of doing any good. The piercing streak of fire through her shoulder and the constant ache in her ribs pulled her unceremoniously out of slumber. "Ow," she groaned with a grimace as her eyes opened.

"Easy," Jane smiled; sliding her arm under Maura's back to help her sit up. "Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up."

Maura glanced at the clock and saw that it was past five, "It's ok. I think I'm feeling a little hungry anyways."

"Want me to help you to the dining room?"

Considering it for a moment, Maura bit down on her lip as she thought of Constance standing in the kitchen earlier. "I think I'd rather just eat in bed tonight."

Jane leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her lips, fingers still stroking her face, "Ok."

* * *

><p>Tommy saw her first as Jane walked into the living room, "Maura doin' ok?"<p>

"Yeah," Jane patted him on the shoulder and squeezed, "she just woke up."

Glancing over her shoulder from setting the table, Angela regarded her with a warm smile, "I just put the bread in. Dinner will be in about fifteen or twenty minutes."

Constance approached Jane with a hesitancy that was unsettling. If anything, she thought it should be the other way around, with her being afraid to talk to Constance. The older woman made her way slowly to stand in front of Jane. She wrung her hands together and twisted her wedding ring nervously round and round her finger.

A one-sided smile drew up the corner of Jane's mouth. "Maura does that," she pointed at Constance's hand. "Twists her rings around when she's nervous."

"Does she?" Constance grinned for a moment, looking down at her fidgeting hands. _I should know that. _Her face fell somber.

"Yeah," Jane continued. "Sometimes she'll take the ring off because she thinks that will stop it. But, then she just twists an imaginary ring." They both laughed. "I'm not sure she even realizes she's doing it then."

"I…I…guess I never really realized that I do it," Constance stammered.

"Like mother, like daughter," Jane nodded towards Angela. "She cleans when she's upset and 'organizes' things. I vacuum."

With a smile and chuckle Constance glanced fondly over at Angela, "Well, at least you reap some tangible benefit from that." She held up her hands, "This just makes me look like a nervous nelly."

The juxtaposition of their roles was striking to Jane. Only ten days ago she had practically been on her knees begging Constance to allow her to see Maura. Now, everything had turned around. She knew exactly what was on the woman's mind without her even needing to say the words. Jane wondered if it came from a newfound place of respect and acceptance or if Maura had shamed her mother so badly when she woke up that Constance was now less afraid of Jane than her own daughter. It didn't matter. She'd been on the receiving end of denial…twice. She had walked in those shoes and they hurt dearly.

"Constance," Jane reached out and stilled the woman's still nervously wringing hands. "You don't have to ask for my permission to go back and see her."

* * *

><p>If she knocked, Maura would know it was her and might tell her to go away. Constance stood outside the door, clutching a thick photo album to her chest with one arm, her fist hovering. She lowered her hand and turned the knob and walked in unannounced. Maura's face was void of emotion as she approached. That, in and of itself, terrified her. As a child, her daughter may not have been the most intuitive when it came to feelings, but when she was overwhelmed by them they overtook her like a thunderous storm. To see the blank stare Maura leveled her way now, Constance could only take as hatred.<p>

"May I sit?" Constance asked, glancing down at the edge of the bed.

"I'd rather you left."

"You'd rather I left…or you're telling me to leave?" Angela had prepared her for this: avoidance. An emotionally distressed Maura wasn't something Constance had recent experience with. Thirty-something years of facing things alone had taught Maura to push people away, suffer in silence, or cry behind closed doors. _At this point_, Angela had said looking her square in the eye, _only Jane has her complete unwavering confidence._ Constance had looked at her skeptically; Angela was the mother Maura had always wanted. _No,_ Angela shook her head with a sympathetic smile, _not even me_.

Maura's eyes fell to her lap but she said nothing. Constance sat down.

"We need to talk," Constance lowered the album from her chest to let it rest on her knees.

"I'm not sure I'm ready."

"That's fine. Then, I can talk, and you can listen." Constance turned the album around and placed it on Maura's lap as she flipped it open to a cover page entitled _Ballet_. "Did you know, when I was a little girl, I wanted to be a dancer?"

Maura's eyes stayed fixed on the album, wondering what it held.

Constance continued, "But, I didn't really have the build for it…and terrible knees to boot. From the moment you could walk you would twirl and dance to the music I played in the house. So, I signed you up for ballet. I bet you don't even remember your first class."

Maura shook her head, watching intently as her mother turned the first page of the album. A row of six little girls outfitted in pink leotards, tights, and slippers stood in various interpretations of first position.

"From day one, you had the best form," Constance's finger tapped on the picture above a three-year old Maura's head. "Madame Laroux always said you were a natural and a quick study," she began to turn the pages filled with pictures from dance classes and early recitals. "That was no surprise to your father and I of course. We knew you were brilliant early on."

"I don't remember any of these being taken," Maura finally spoke up.

"Well, darling, you were three in most of these. You were…" she grouped a bunch of the pages together, "…four to six here. You were always so focused in class, it was almost as if no one else was in the studio once you began. I'm not surprised you don't remember me with my little camera snapping away."

Page after page, Maura watched her mother flip through the album. She had saved it all, pictures and programs from classes and recitals from the time Maura was three until she went to boarding school in France. Maura reached out and stopped her mother from turning a page. What had once been roses were now no more than flakes and powder under plastic, but Maura recognized them all the same. "Are these…?"

Constance nodded, "The bouquet your father and I gave you after your first solo."

"You saved them."

Her first solo, and her last recital before she went to school in France; Maura reached for the pages herself and turned, not believing there could be more. But, there was. "I sent you these programs," Maura remarked as she began to recall the almost long forgotten performances. "But…not the rest."

"When you didn't send them," Constance ran her hand over a faded and yellowing copy of the Nutcracker, "I asked Madame Bonaly to mail me one."

The final photo in the album was unmistakable. Maura's mouth fell open as she traced over the image with her finger. If not for the spotlight the black costume would have blended into the darkness behind her. Her eyes were closed at the pinnacle of the leap, legs perfectly split in midair. "This was my senior recital."

"You always performed such a beautiful grand jeté, such control, such flawless extension," Constance tried to cover Maura's hand with her own but her still flighty daughter pulled away.

"How did you…?"

Guilt began to overtake her as Maura's face shifted from fond recollection to sadness, "I hired a photographer to take pictures for me."

"I…wish you would have been there instead. It was the last time I danced." Maura closed the album.

She placed her hand on her daughter's knee, "I had a student that was a finalist for a Pollock-Krasner Foundation grant…" Constance stopped herself. "…and…I should have asked another faculty member to oversee. I should have been there for your performance. I love you dearly. I always have, from the first moment you were placed into my arms and every moment after. I should have done a better job of showing it, I didn't know how. Sometimes, I think I still don't know how. But, that doesn't mean it's not true, that it's not what I feel. I should have made sure you knew that you were my priority even when you didn't ask. I should…"

Maura's lip trembled, "None of this is why I'm angry with you right now. I felt lost, for a really long time. I tried so hard in everything because I thought it would make up for not being a good enough daughter, that that's why you didn't pay much attention to me. I let people…men, use me so that I would know what it felt like to be wanted. It took years, but I overcame all of that. In large part because of Jane. I'm not that lost, weird little girl, or young woman anymore. And I have forgiven you for that benign neglect, mother. I have. Because, I love who I am now and what my life is, and who I am now would not be without everything that came before it. But, that is not why I am angry with you now."

"I know…" Constance whispered as she wiped the tears from her cheek. "But, the guilt that I carry is very much a part of why I did what I did at the hospital. That is what I am trying to explain to you. Over these past few years when we have talked it was almost as if you were already a Rizzoli. When I came to visit, Angela is living in your guesthouse; they have family dinner here every Sunday. It was so plain to see, to hear it in your voice that you were in love with Jane. I knew it before you knew it. I was jealous. Plain and simple. I know that I had no right to be jealous for you replacing me considering the kind of mother that I was…but I always loved you and in my head I had these fantasies that one day we would have what Angela and Jane have. When you told me that you and Jane were together, it felt like the final straw, like I had finally completely lost you. You weren't my daughter anymore. Not because I didn't want you, but because you had found the family you always deserved and you had no need to hold on to whatever shred of a relationship we had. That…every bit of it, is all my fault. And then the accident happened and all I could of think of was that this was my chance…this was my chance to be there. I wanted to be there for you; I wanted you to wake up and see…see that there is no one more important in my life than you."

"You could have both been there."

Constance nodded. "It is probably the biggest mistake I've ever made. And I know that no words right now, no apology, is probably enough to take even the smallest amount of that pain away. The very opposite of what I intended, it was, I realize now, the most selfish thing I've ever done. You don't have to even think about forgiving me right now…but, I promise you, Maura, I will devote every ounce of energy I possess to making amends for this."

"I can't," Maura shook her head, pushing the album back into her mother's lap. "I can't forgive you."

Standing just on the other side of the open door, she had been listening the entire time, Jane took a deep breath and stepped into the room, "I can."

Both Isles' turned and looked at her; Constance stood.

"What if I had died, Jane?" Maura closed her eyes and shuddered at the thought, tears flowing erratically down her already saturated face.

"You don't do what ifs…"

"I do now," Maura looked up at her. "What if I had died and it was Ian who had to come tell you? Would you forgive her then?"

That what if had played through Jane's mind so many times before Maura had finally awoken. Hurt, painfully evident in her eyes, Jane looked at Constance. "I don't know. I don't think I would have been able to forgive you for that."

"I understand," Constance nodded.

"But," Jane continued, glancing at Maura and then back to her mother, "that didn't happen. And I forgive you, Constance, for what you did do. I'm able to do that now because of the person loving your daughter has made me."

"Thank you," Constance whispered, stepping forward into Jane's offer of an embrace.

Jane wrapped her arms tightly around the shaking woman and let her lips hover near her ear as she softly whispered, "Give her time."

As Constance exited, Jane took her seat on the bed and opened the photo album. "I thought you said she didn't have any pictures of you."

With a deep sniffle to stifle the tears, Maura's eyes fell again on the pictures as Jane leafed through them, "I didn't know that she did."

"A lot of misunderstanding going on."

"I could have died…" Maura reiterated.

In a flash, Jane was hovering in front of her, hands cupping her face, "But, you didn't die. And you can't punish her forever for the pain I might have felt!"

"That's not…" Maura began to protest.

"That is…" Jane stopped her, "…exactly what you are doing. Everything you just said to her was based on knowing how I would have felt if you had died and I hadn't been allowed to be there with you. And yes, if that had happened I probably would have hated her with every fiber of my being for the rest of my life. But, you didn't die! And I don't want you to feel this way in defense of me. You know your mother better than anyone; how hard was it for her to say everything that she just came in here and said to you?"

Maura's head began to slump but Jane held it up. "I…I don't think I've ever heard her admit she was wrong, or apologize."

"I forgive her, Maura. And if you need to stay angry for a little while, that's fine. You've earned the right to be angry at her. Remember though, nothing has been broken yet that can't be fixed. Because we're going to get married, you say," Jane grinned and affirmed her desire with a long and supportive look into Maura's eyes, "and I want my mother-in-law at the wedding. I want her in the pictures, standing next to you in your empire-waist, silk charmeuse gown with the twenty-foot train. And a LONG time from now, when we have a kid, or kids, or…you know, whatever, I want them to see our family all together on that day."

Maura tried to muffle her cries on Jane's shoulder as they held each other.

"You can be angry today," Jane ran her fingers through Maura's hair, loosing the braid as she kissed her, "I might even give you to the end of the week. But, not forever. Not forever, Maura. Ok?"

"Ok," Maura acquiesced with a faint whisper.

* * *

><p>Jane appreciated Constance's approach to giving Maura time. Had it been Angela, well, the extra space would have maybe lasted until the next morning. But, then, anyone was more subtle than Angela Rizzoli. Following the emotional exchange Constance left contact information for her hotel and quietly slipped out. The next day, however, she personally delivered groceries. Everything she knew to be a favorite of Maura's, and having clearly picked Angela's brain, several of Jane's as well. She didn't linger, merely stocked the fridge and cabinets and left. Jane didn't even feign an apology as she devoured the snack cakes. <em>I barely ate while you were in the hospital<em>, she reminded her disapproving lover, _I've got a few pounds to add back on_.

On the second day, she brought flowers. Having mentioned that perhaps Maura would enjoy having something living to brighten up her home while she was fairly immobile, Jane had jumped at the chance to whisper to Constance with Maura well out of earshot, _calla lilies are her favorite_. There must have been a different type of lily for every room. Constance put the calla lilies in the bedroom. Maura watched silently as her mother swooped around the house and arranged them. That afternoon, while she was taking a break from the bedroom to sit on the sofa, Jane caught Maura with her head resting on the back of the sofa, as she stared up at a bouquet of bright orange oriental lilies and fingered the lowest hanging leaf.

When she dropped off the expensive bottle of grand cru Bordeaux and the fruit and cheese platter on Friday afternoon, as they were getting ready for the opera, Jane assumed that was the daily peace offering. She thanked her, offered Constance a glass, which she refused and went to show her out. Just striding up the driveway as Jane opened the door was a tall, dapper gentleman carrying what looked like a fancy toolbox in one hand and a hair dryer in the other.

"Jane," Constance smiled, "This is Brian, one of the best stylists in Boston. I booked him to do yours and Maura's hair and makeup for the opera tonight. I thought Maura might need a little assistance, and that you deserved a little treat." With that, she left.

* * *

><p>"I'm not going…" Maura muttered as Jane stood in the doorway of the bedroom. She lowered the shoulder of her robe and revealed the botched job she'd made of trying to cover the bruising on her shoulder with foundation and concealer. "I don't have the right makeup to cover marks this dark."<p>

"No, you certainly don't," Jane agreed, "but Brian does, I bet." She stepped aside and allowed the young gentleman into the room. "Brian, you've already met the lovely cut on my forehead from our accident. Please meet Maura's shoulder surgery." Jane arched one eyebrow and stared intently at Maura. "You're going."

They set her up in a chair in the bathroom but the anticipation had been taxing and Jane could tell Maura was on the verge of tears that she was desperately trying to hold back. "Talk to me," Jane encouraged, taking Maura's hand and squeezing it.

"The dress I bought to wear is strapless."

"That's good, right?" Jane smiled. "Don't you think straps would itch over the stitches?"

Maura sighed and kissed Jane's hand, "You said one day I'd walk out of the house in a strapless dress and I wouldn't be embarrassed. Today is not that day."

"It doesn't have to be today," Jane pulled her robe down again and ran her fingers lightly over the top of Maura's shoulder. "I showed your mother your dress. I asked her to pick you out a shawl just in case. It's very pretty; it looks exactly like something you would like. I knew I wouldn't get the right thing. No one will know what's underneath it. I've been looking forward to this since Christmas, and…you need this. As much as you don't think that you do. You need to get out of this house and be around people and listen to beautiful music. I bought something really special to wear tonight and if you won't go, I'm just going to return it and not even let you see it…Armani does take returns right?"

Maura's eyes brightened and she couldn't hold back the smile, "Armani…you didn't," she said with a breathy gasp.

"So, Maura Isles, will you accompany me to the opera tonight?" Jane said with her best put on upper crust accent.

Pursing her lips, Maura knew that she had been beaten, "May I see the shawl?"

* * *

><p>Checking her watch and tapping her foot impatiently, Maura waited for Brian to wrap up with Jane. Finally, she heard the click of heels and turned as Jane and Brian stepped into the living room. Her mouth fell open. It was the most striking vision of Jane she thought she had ever seen. The expertly tailored and classic ladies tuxedo made her look seven feet tall and absolutely ravishing. "You…I thought it would be a dress, but this…you…oh, Jane. You look stunning. You look like a model." She approached her stammering, aching to run her hands across the satin.<p>

Jane blushed, shoved her hands into the tight pockets of the skinny-leg trousers, "No, I don't," she said unconvincingly. In all honesty, when she had looked herself in the mirror only a few minutes ago, she had been pretty damned impressed.

"Oh, honey," Brian jumped in, fussing with her slick up-do one last time, "If they put a picture of you in the boutique window, no woman would ever wear a dress again." He kissed them each on the cheek and bid them a goodnight.

Maura reached out twined her hand with Jane's. "I'm sorry I was…being difficult earlier."

"You're allowed. I think we all remember my PTOSD – post-traumatic online shopping disorder, refusing to wear anything but sweatpants, trying to skip my own awards ceremony." Jane laughed and started to lean down to kiss her, but paused. "I want to kiss you, but…he made me put on lipstick."

Maura chuckled and guided their lips together anyway. "You can always reapply. Now," adjusting the shawl secured around her shoulders by a broach, she looked at Jane with an expectant smile, "If you'll help me with my coat, I think we have an opera to attend."

* * *

><p>Jane tried to keep from giggling. <em>Hold perfectly still, <em>she told herself. _Don't move, or she'll know you're awake._ The late Sunday morning sun filled the room and Maura had been humming scores from I Capuleti e i Montecchi for what had to have been at least half an hour. She didn't mind if Maura kept it up for days. Her voice was pitch-perfect, silky, and lulling. It had been a memorable evening. This time, they were holding hands before the first act even began. And, when they left, all eyes seemed to be glued to them.

_They're all looking at you_, Maura whispered. _Because you're the most beautiful woman in the theater._

_Second-most_, Jane replied, without a moment's hesitation as she leaned down and kissed her in the coat-check line.

The humming ceased and inside, Jane's heart fluttered with a slight sadness at its end.

"You can stop pretending to be asleep now," Maura raised her hand and stroked Jane's face.

"How did you know?"

"Your fingers were tapping along to the song on my hip," Maura laughed.

"I was enjoying listening to you," Jane tilted Maura's head towards her and took her lips in a loving kiss, tongue gently sliding in at Maura's invitation. "What's your favorite part from that opera?"

"The part you played for me when I was in the coma."

"How do you know I did that?" Jane asked as she lazily traced the features of Maura's face with one delicate finger.

"I just know."

* * *

><p>The air in the ice arena felt particularly crisp that afternoon, a refreshing contrast to the damp and slushy cold that hung outside. The Black Caps looked sharp, running their drills with perfect precision. Maura's eyes trailed over to the red and blue jerseys on the other half of the ice: the Mayflowers, Beth's team. It seemed strangely fitting, that their season would end in the same duel of colors in which it had began.<p>

Maura adjusted her sling, with no upper body pads on under her jersey, it hung at an odd angle and bunched under the sling's strap. She was still fidgeting with it when Jane came to a grinding halt in front of the bench.

"Come on bruiser," Jane held out her hand, "this is Championship ice out here. It has to be skated on."

Her legs didn't feel as shaky as she thought they might. Everything came back, the feel of the ice under her skates, the motion, the way her body balanced. Soon, she was gliding around half of the arena, Jane's arm looped under her good arm as a precaution. It was two laps before she realized that the team was no longer scattered around half the rink. Looking over her shoulder she saw them skating in formation behind her and Jane. They took two more laps before she slowed, stopped and then turned to her team with a tear in her eye. The Mayflowers were lined up on center ice. Maura looked over at them, shocked to see that it was Beth Warner that started clapping first, the rest of her team falling in, followed by the Black Caps and a smattering of people through the audience as well. A loud woot rang out from somewhere in the stands.

"That was Frankie or Tommy," Jane whispered in her ear with a chuckle.

Marcie came up with the black marker first and signed the white part of Maura's jersey; she handed the pen to Jane next and then every member of the Black Caps and the Mayflowers followed until the white was a camouflage of black signatures and quotes. The clapping died down and slowly everyone dispersed to finish the pre-game prep. Standing at the rink wall in front of the stands, Maura saw her mother. "Jane," Maura patted her hand and eased Jane's grip off of her arm. "I'm ok."

With a smile and a glance in Constance's direction, Jane skated back to the bench.

Constance dabbed at her eyes with a tissue as Maura approached, "They were all clapping for you." Maura nodded modestly. "It's…it's the most wonderful thing I've ever seen."

"More wonderful than the dancing, or the fencing, or the horseback riding?"

Constance nodded, covering her mouth as more tears trickled out but were cooled by the chilly arena air. "You never played a team sport. Not a true team sport. I…I never thought I'd see you like this. You have your own numbered outfit and everything. They all signed it."

"It's called a jersey," Maura laughed.

"Yes," Constance smiled, somewhat embarrassed by her lingo faux pas. "It looks good, you look good in it."

The whistle blow from center ice sliced sharply through the air. "I have to get to the bench."

"Maura," Constance reached out but caught her hand before she tried to take her daughter by the arm. "Would you let me take some pictures of you and Jane after the game? And…next season, will you send me the schedule so I can come to some of them?"

Looking down at the marker in her hand, Maura held it out to her mother, she pointed to a free splotch of white on the front to the right of the team emblem, "I think there's some space here…if you want to sign it."

_To my darling, I've never been more proud. All my love, mom._

* * *

><p>The four on four, post-regulation overtime period came to a climactic end with the Mayflowers' goalie catching what would have been the Black Caps' winning goal off of Jane's stick.<p>

"Dammit," Jane muttered as she took a look at the still tie score on the board and skated to the bench. The team gave her hearty back slaps and offered that it was a good shot as consolation. It did little to dull the ache and exhaustion that sagged through her body. She took her helmet off and sat on the bench next to Maura while Coach Saarsgard strategized for the shootout.

With the whistle blow, Carolyn donned her goalie mask, tapped the top of it as all of the Caps slapped it as well and skated to her net. The first player took the ice for the Mayflowers and Coach Saarsgard arched an eyebrow as she looked at her clipboard. Her shot went high and was an easy field for Carolyn. "Maura…you'll take the first shot for us."

"No!" Maura exclaimed popping to her feet.

"Thought you wanted to play?"

"Coach, I do, but, I can't hit it hard right now," Instinctively Maura reached for the shoulder that Marcie was already trying to tug the sling off of.

"You don't have to hit it hard," Marcie laughed. "Just try to sneak it in. And really, we don't care if you score. We just want you to play."

The team all started chanting Isles again and before she could launch another protest, Claire had plopped the helmet on her head and Jane was shoving a stick in her hands. "Go on," Jane said.

She skated out on the ice and the ref dropped the puck. With the blow of the whistle she was off, not fast, the pain in her ribs wouldn't allow it. She had her eyes set on the bottom right corner of the net. At the last minute, as she saw the goalie commit to her telegraphed direction Maura gritted her teeth through the pain, slid to a stop, took a shaky spin and gently slapped the puck towards the left corner instead. It dinged just off the post and skittered away. No goal. "Shit!" The Mayflowers' goalie gasped, rolling over, sure the puck was in the net; she flung her mask back, a look of shock plastered across her face that it wasn't.

"That almost went in!" Coach Saarsgard stood mouth agape at the bench as Maura skated back. "Where in the hell did you learn that move?"

"I taught her," Jane smiled proudly.

"Well, if you can damn near pull a goal off all beat to hell…keep practicing, I could definitely use that next year." Coach looked at Marcie and nodded towards the ice. "Only you and Jane have gotten one in on them this game, get us on the board again."

The Mayflowers' second shooter came up empty handed against Carolyn as well. The Caps all held their breath as Marcie bolted for the goal, the bench erupting in raucous screams as her hard shot caught the goalie unawares and slammed into the net. None of them were surprised to see Beth Warner take the ice for the Mayflowers' last shot. She had scored both of their goals in regulation. Carolyn hunkered down and slapped her stick repeatedly against her shoulder.

"If she misses," Jane whispered to Maura, "we win."

"I'm aware of how a shoot out works, Jane," Maura responded with laugh.

Beth tried the same move that had completely flustered Carolyn in the first period but to no avail. The puck landed in Carolyn's gloved hand with a hard smack that echoed through the silent arena until the cheers from the stands prompted the Black Caps to rush their goalie on the ice.

Jane hung back when Maura didn't move. "Don't you want to go out there?"

She shook her head. "I want to watch for a minute." Maura laughed as they all dogpiled on top of one another, helmets being flung in every direction and sliding across the ice. "Help me out of my jersey please."

Jersey off and a sweatshirt on in its place, Maura took the ice, urged Jane to join the team, and skated to the far side where she saw her mother standing at the wall, taking pictures.

"I've never seen anything more exciting! You played! And you almost scored!" Constance's face was alight with an infectious joy.

Maura stepped off the ice and held the jersey out, "I want you to have this."

"No," Constance wrapped her hands around her daughter's and pushed the jersey back towards her. It was the first time they had really touched one another since their talk. "Your team signed that for you. You should keep it."

"But, I want you to have it," Maura said softly, stepping closer, pushing the jersey back to her mother's chest. "It's our new beginning."

Constance pulled Maura into the hug she had been longing for all week, "I'm going to frame it, and hang it in my work studio so that I can see it every day that I'm home." They pulled back and smiled at one another as Constance ran her hand down her daughter's cheek. "I have something for you. You don't have to take it." Reaching into her pocket she covered a small box with her hands. "Angela told me that you…sort of proposed to Jane. I want you to know that I support you and that I will be proud to call Jane my daughter-in-law. Angela went with me, we picked it out together; I thought she would know what Jane would like." Constance opened the box and revealed an engagement ring. "If you don't like it, or if you want to pick it out yourself, it won't hurt my feelings. I just didn't know if you had event thought about a ring yet, but, I thought you might like to make it official."

Maura's hand trembled as she took the ring box from her mother, "It's…beautiful. It's exactly what I would have picked out for her."

At center ice the team assembled as the head of the league and all of the teams' coaches took the ice. Constance pointed, "I think you had better get out there."

Stuffing the ring box in the pocket of her sweatshirt, Maura joined her team for the trophy presentation. She barely heard the words the chairman said. She wanted to take it all in. The smell of sweat and ice, the boisterous flat echo of hands clapping together after every sentence, the crowd of people in the stands, her mother…still standing where she left her, now wearing her jersey and still snapping pictures. Jane nudged her and nodded her head at their team clapping. Coach Saarsgard was honored with coach of the year.

"Next," the chairman said as he brought the crowd, coaches, and players to a hush. "Our league player of the year. Voted on annually by all the players in the league. Not surprisingly, this year it goes to a member of the Black Caps." He held up the plaque. "Maura Isles."

Maura stood dumbfounded. "That's your name, babe," Jane laughed as she gave her a slight elbow.

"It can't be me," Maura looked up at Jane and then at all of her teammates who were smiling and applauding. "I didn't even play that much, I only scored two goals the entire season."

The chairman approached and handed her the plaque as the crowd all rose to their feet.

"It's not about how many minutes you played," Jane said as she wrapped her arms around Maura's waist and watched everyone cheer. "It's not about how many goals you scored. It's about heart. You've always had mine. Now you have theirs too."

Maura turned in Jane's arms and handed the plaque to Marcie at her side. "You said I have your heart…" Jane nodded. "Jane, you have mine…and more. Everything that I am belongs to you and I know that everything that you are belongs to me. There is no forever in my world without you in it. I know, back at the hospital, I sort of just declared that I was going to marry you." She pulled the ring box from her pocket and opened it as her team fell hushed around them. "But, nothing would make me happier than to hear you answer the following question for yourself: Jane Rizzoli, you are the love of my life, the source of my strength, and my inspiration. Will you marry me?"

Jane let the tears fall, "Yes a week ago, yes today, yes tomorrow and every day after. Forever…you and I." She held out her hand and let Maura slip the ring on before pulling her into a kiss as their team circled around them cheering.

As the kiss waned and they reluctantly pulled apart, Jane pointed off the ice. Angela and Constance stood, arms hooked around one another, hands clasped, Frankie and Tommy at their sides.

Maura wrapped her arms around Jane and rested her head against Jane's chest, chuckling as Constance tried futilely to calm Angela's overwhelmed bawling.

"What do you make of that?" Jane asked, laughing and shaking her head at her mother's predictable breakdown.

With her hand caressing Jane's cheek, Maura looked up and smiled, "That's our family, Jane. That's our family."

END


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